That run

The stretch across the chest

Confident stride on uncertain ground.

The lungs opening to a freshly blazed burn

Tickle of dust in the nose.

Something about this calls me home,

The eucalypt and the birds above

Pace striding out, heel strike and spring.

The ground disappearing 'neath my feet.

It is a homecoming rich with sacred,

Youth and fire and freedom

A becoming the promises so much of living

Along, in my heard, blood roaring.

It is running that I notice the world,

This world that is rich and is glorious

Loping stride, eased breath, relaxation

Here I am, I am here, I am home.