He runs,
though I do not see him;
with each step he runs farther away,
closer to himself.
He has moved on,
though his mind rests;
thoughts clear like morning fog
as the sun rises,
His vision clears
to see the road ahead;
north, east,
south, west
It does not matter,
there are no intersections,
just a whim,
intuition,
The wind takes you there –
where else would you want to be?
He’s running,
from nothing,
But towards everything.
Time passes so fast,
why not catch up with it
and befriend it?
He runs,
but I do not see him;
he never stays long,
never dormant,
Never stale,
but always present if you are.
It’s not mind over matter,
or body over mind,
It’s balance –
equilibrium.
It’s not a race
for the finish line,
It’s back where he started,
and he will never go back.
He runs,
though I do not see him.
Lewis Walddren 