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poet707747


 Therapy of the Run

I sit on the sofa, feeling blue and sorry for myself;
No true reason why, just that time of the season.
My mind stresses over matters outside my control;
My soul stews on projections of what might come.

This continues to spin me deeper into the darkness;
When suddenly I realize what I must do for my sanity.
I get up and walk with determination to my closet;
Dressing in layers, it's time for the therapy of the run.

I grab my old friends, lace them onto my waiting feet;
A wave of peace washes over me by this action alone.
I look out the window at the snowy morning, I shiver;
Then a smile crosses my lips, gentleness enters me.

A blast of cold air takes my breath as I step outside;
Then I reach back for the door knob for a moment.
Snow is falling, accumulation is beginning to mount;
But I know that it's time for the therapy of the run.

Taking that first step into the snowstorm, then the second;
Beginning at a slow, methodical pace down the road.
Searching for my rhythm, finding that edge that I love;
My soul opens up as I move from the road into the woods.

Soaring is my spirit as I run along this snow covered path;
Wildlife looks at me as I move, I can feel their welcome.
Unity, peace, gentleness; the release of life's tensions;
I move silently through the snow, the therapy of the run.

11Dec10


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