My run begins with a gentle jog along a mountain trail~
my breath is easy, my legs are loose,
and the world opens up ahead.
But when the trail tilts upward,
my lungs begin to burn, my heart starts to thud~
yet something in me refuses to stop.
Some days the trail is smooth,
sunlight dappling the ground
like applause.
Other days it’s mud,
tangled roots,
and the sharp surprise of a stone
I never saw coming.
But I keep running,
because the body remembers
what the mind forgets~
that momentum is its own kind of grace.
Somewhere along the way
I discover running isn't about the number of miles,
my speed, or crossing finish lines~
it's about the miracle of moving forward.
I run not for fun,
It may be dusk or dawn.
I want to shine like sun,
Remember I am not done.
I don’t go for anydone,
Yes driven by dreams very often.
I won’t allow things to be gone,
Just because of my nonedone.
My aims find objections,
Have to go through endless agitations.
But I will make it a perfection,
At the end of this long run.
Won't stop before final submission,
Can't disregard the divine indication.
Time passes
long wait...
And none of us
arrives at the appointment...
the watch of life
still loose
unmarked
the final moment...
But the inexorable fear
is looking for me
of our yearnings...
And we, when
we finally arrive...!
To our destination...
At the Long run
We all started same time
But never finished same time
Some run faster
Some run so slow
Some fainted at the way
Some couldn't handle the race
At the long run
At the long run
We started this journey together
We were tired of Africa
Cos the suffering was much
We were willing to find life
Else were much more better
Than we got at home
Cos poverty was the drive
To the speed of this long run
We left our home like
As if we are been chase
Of curse the system does
At the long run
The race was hard
Our journey was not easy
The road were though
It was a great experience
But difficult to memorize
Cos it experiences was long
At the long run
At the long run
Do we have a choice
We do but the chances
Are little
We don't want to depend
On tribal wars
We don't want to be victims
Any longer
Freedom was our ultimate
Desire
So the race started
And till date
So many innocent
Africa youth still partake
At the long run
The consequence of
misstep unintended --
a favorite toy
crushed beneath
a careless shoe --
broke her.
She wept, all the while
willing her eyes not to betray
her secret.
Their slow drip
(plop pause plop pause)
like little footfalls over shards
of glass, crunching and cutting,
as she ran from the scene.
The footfalls forcing a rhythm
(measured meditation)
with breath after
eventual breath.
This is how she moves on;
just keeps running,
over and over until the
exhaustion has fulfilled
its purpose:
the quieted mind...
This poem.
He is the one she never believed she deserved him
Always thought he was to good for her
And how he would just not keep hanging on to her because, he lover her only from within
So she turned and walked away along with the roaring but gently wind
The love she has always kept for him in her heart was an amorous love
Full of contented wonder sent from up above
A profound emotion to which she could not find again
She compared it to many others but her complete heart they never could win
He is the only one for whom she longs for from the dark of the night
She closes her eyes and he's there with her in the daylight
So she will wait for him awhile longer she don't care what it takes
She knows the cost and understands the high stakes
She realizes just how much, hard, and in pieces that may never mend her heart and very
soul may break
This is what she feels so certainly she must do, this is the path she just has to take
Her heart and soul may end up being beaten and broken, torn and tattered
For when it comes to him and how he loves her, in the long run
It just don't matter
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