Monday, April 21, 2014

martyrdom of canker sores

"Sometimes," said Julia, "I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side, there's no room for the present at all."
-Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited, Book 2 Chapter 3

I saw the word of life lit up against the dark midnight sky.
I ran past it, feeling the fresh night wind fill up my lungs.
In summer, I thought, I can do this all the time.

I laid down in the dewey morning grass,
feeling the damp green leaves tickle my back
I looked up at the sunrise,
and felt the sweet warmth of morning sun kiss my face.
In summer, I thought, I can do this all the time.

I heard the birds sing to one another,
listening to their melodies,
sung from one friend to the other.
Their tunes were gentler than they'd been before
there was a new strain of mildness woven into their harmonies
I let their voices sing to me as I ran past.
In summer, I thought, I can do this all the time.

I bounded off the sidewalk,
it had become too hard and cold for me,
my feet felt beneath them the springy lawn,
to run is not to feel the weight of weariness
to run is to feel like you are flying,
to move across the world a pace more godlike and more joyful than we tend to do.
If we were immune to the human curses of shin splits and side cramps
I think we all would run and never stop.
As I slowed myself back down into a walk,
I could still feel the speed of running bounding through my veins.
The air which now surrounded me serenely still had in it,
hidden and quiet, the ferocity of wind that whipped through the runner's hair.
In summer, I thought, I can do this all the time.

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