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The Runner
RUNNING, Moving smoothly along an empty beach Early in the morning misty thick With spring warmth, a pre-dawn dewy haze, You can hear his breathing In timed panting with his feet's Sandy slapping, leaving wet impressions Trailing him Running, Moving his legs in ecstatic delight, Enjoying the feel of his muscles, Taut and working, Moving him, pushing him, Through the glowing dawn, the salt air. Above him Gulls in white swirls Cry out his presence to the day, To the sleeping sea. Running, Arms taut and solid by his sides, Moving in balanced rhythm, His head up, smiling open and large, Intense in his celebration And worship, he runs. In solitude, Jesus runs.
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