(from August 2014
One day I’ll go home. Not yet awhile, but one day. I wont need to pace myself any more. The marathon will end, tasks completed no need to recover the ground. The race has been long, beginning in waves of glory, bright ribbons and songs, now the road stretches before me long and empty, as muscles tire and heart pounds in empathy. Few spectators line the path and those that once ran beside me are extended, a long line before and behind. Resolutely I set one foot before the other, keeping the rhythm, the momentum going. The youthful exuberance has faded, the shouts left behind.
Yet I see the marvels of the earth about me as my feet pace out the time, the sights, the sounds, the wonders. The finish line beckons drawing me on, the foot prints of those that went before me. Their faces wait in expectancy. As…
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