This isn’t a song nor is it a poem. It’s a confession.
Words are powerful. They can stand alone and demand attention of any man. Tonight, they demand my attention. I’m not writing to you, the anonymous soul reading this. Rather this is a long overdue therapy session, my session.
I’m running and in between long strides my legs ache and my breathing gets harder, and the patting of my heart forms an undeniable rhythm. Something familiar, perhaps a memory from my child hood and here on the worn path of life I remember.
We are all running a race, and that means we ought to all be distance runners. Life is a distance, from the time we are conceived to the day we lay down, arms crossed in a casket. Some run faster than others while others choose not to run at all. Tonight I’m choosing to stop and breathe. To actually reflect on what I am running for.
At times it’s not what we’re running for but what we’re running FROM.
I don’t want to spend the rest of my life, regretting. Imagining what I could have been and who I could have met. Comparing every angle of my story only to come up empty-handed and confused, I am running and I want to find the gold mine. I want to find my El Dorado, hiding in between the insane lush of every day hassles.
I want to be alive for something. I want to be full enamored with passion, undeniable passion. The kind that makes your toes curl, your bosom ache, a feeling that cannot and will not be denied.
The question then remains, do I keep running or do I wait? I don’t even know what I’m waiting for.
But for a split second I’m gonna be brave, let my aching legs rest and listen to the rhythm of my heart beat.
Lyrical Jungle 