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Wednesday, 19 August 2020

Runner's high.....

In my early days of running I sat down one night and tried to describe what running meant to me, why I enjoyed it so much. 
The following poem trickled down the page. 
      
        Wildrunners
There are days
On paths that zig-zag
High into the hills
We pass beyond the pain,
Catch that tingling in the scalp
That tells us soon
We'll treadmill out of time,
Out of self.

      To rufflings of raven's wings
      We'll rise above the stones,
      Sail in the eye of the wind
      To worlds beyond the womb.
      In that transmigratory state
      That's neither flesh nor blood.
      Male or female, warm or cold,
      We'll run, like disembodied joys,
      The gauntlet of eternity.

3 comments:

  1. Not only a runner Old Runningfox ,but a poet too . Well done Gordon.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Lovely poem Uncle Gordon, you are an inspiration to us all xxx

    ReplyDelete
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