Dreaming of Home
I had a dream once of running so
fast and free and far,
to find my way back home.
With feet that never lost their way…
legs never aching
and breath never seemingly as lost,
as I myself was in my waking day.
I dreamt of sturdy feet and steady hands,
moving in precise time,
and a mind and eyes both keen and sharp,
always watching the world and the way
ahead for ruts and cracks and wrong turns.
With the pounding of my feet
matching the rhythm of my heart,
I’d meditate on the movement and stillness
of my breath and in the world all around.
I ran through streets, across bridges
and down roads knowing where to go.
Only to find the truth at the road’s end.
That the journey was what the dream was about,
not the home found at the end
No comments:
Post a Comment