The Cure

I came to know the clouds just now, as I saw one born while I ran.  I was not aware of the entire birth, but as the sun promised to bend around the distance, I persisted in pushing the fog to be sure I was not at the edge of the world.  It had been flowing through me for a time, but until the light I had only tasted it.  Happening faster than I expected, the fog lifted as it became more certain the sun was to come again.  Around me and through me, it lept without sound or trail to the bright blue awaiting.  When a child with a window seat is air-bused through, over my cloud, I hope she thinks how far it has come to see her.

{This morning, with the opportunity of an 'extra' hour, I was able to run enough (no regret this time that I should have gone farther).  Steps in the dark.  I was clarified.  In the near-dark, I realized how we scurry.  We train our children to scurry ... proud when they do, hope they grow up to become jugglers of appointments.  One should run.  As it goes by you more slowly, you see it, breathe it and it shares with you; the world around you is not one of obtacles through which you brake, accelerate and veer.  Running can fix you.  No watch, nor phone, only that between the ground and the sky is there with you.}