Sunday, June 23, 2013

To Run the Wild Beast

Reflections on a morning run, March 27, 2010
Athens, Georgia
March 2011, revised June 23, 2013

Yes, I remember
how it was in spring
to set out in darkness and ease
into the light pace that takes you nowhere

and home. How paved roads roll
easy underfoot, as stride by stride
you stretch through strength to joy.  
How brisk east wind blows cold on sweat

through muscle and marrow and deeper yet
to cleanse the body, unburden the soul,
to shed all distractions and fall into flow,
in silence the mind to step out of time –

to stride the high plains
under African sky

in searing noon heat
bold predator, I

to run the wild beast
through tortuous lands

where Eden is naught
but hazy mirage

that hovers beyond
uncountable dawns

with history’s tears
still yet to be shed

no burden of why
nor what lies ahead

eternity’s now
impressed on my will

inside of my heart
on glistening skin

in deepening breath
the freshening wind

for immortal am I
till the moment I die

or run out my race
and reenter time –

where asphalt
yields to open fields
and far across a waking
park, white halos of pear

blossom hover against silhouettes
of a treeline emerging from dark, pale
spectors of spring in the soft morning light,

         which harbors a spirit
                                         attempting to soar
                        escaping the darkness

                                encasing our core
in primitive peace
                reconnected once more.

"Primitive Dawn" by David Noah, Winterville, Georgia