Written after running at night in the Keys:
Humid but not hot.  Dark.  Quiet.  Tranquil.  A little patch of land surrounded by the soft and rhythmic waves of a vast ocean.  Moving through the air by footsteps along the path.  Alone.

The intersection of land and water that usually speaks with sparkling light is made mute by the blanket of gray, formed by clouds that separate the mundane from the spectacle of moonlight and starlight that makes time stand still and the mind fly.

Running now.  Running along this envelope of earth.  There’s nothing to see but much to feel.  There is the reflection of the past, with every footfall like the last but each in a new space.  There is the thought of now, the sensation of life appreciated, shared, loved, and soon to be missed.  There is the wonder of the future, the never ceasing adventure of next.

Wonderful, awesome, and in no way explainable.  That’s life.  You can seek shelter in the petty troubles of today and never see the grand adventure you have, or you can strive to get your arms and your mind around it all.  You can strive, but you will never succeed.  Yet it is that striving that makes the story.  And is there ever a good ending if there was no good story preceding it? 

Thinking now of a little girl who had such a short time to see it all.  She fought for life, her life, and in the fight she loved and was loved and saw and felt all that she could.  She made everything of her time, and when her eyes closed to never see again, we lost too.  Her world was stuffed animals, cartoon characters, princesses, play houses, rolling balls and the natural love children feel and inspire.  Those were her weapons and her comfort against an enemy too small to be seen, but very real.  In the end, the  enemy had its way, but her life was an example and a victory because it was not wasted and it was inspiring.

Still running along.  Now it rains.  Softly.  And that’s good.  That’s fair.  That’s nice.  I appreciate it.  Connected now to this scene.  The rain feels cool, keeps me from being tired.  It keeps me here. 

Sometimes there are no answers.  But there are questions.  Sometimes the silence has to be enough; sometimes the questions have to wait.  Sometimes you just have to take everything in and know it is not our place to know all. 

Coming back now.  Streetlights create an oasis of light, each one its own and each surrounded by the night.  In and out of the light.  In and out of the dark.   It rains but I don’t feel it anymore.  I run faster now, looking to each island of light as my next destination.  Faster until my heart pounds as hard as it still can.

A little song by James Blunt I hear, called Carry You Home.  It’s a little song that paints a grand picture:

A song for your heart,
but when it is quiet
I know what it means
And I’ll carry you home.

Now I’m back.   Under a roof and out of the rain.  And there is still time.  Still time.  For what?  I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best to make the most of it. 

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