I want it to pour all out of me.
Like the rain clouds last moments of torrential downpour,
its last moments to bring the ground relief,
its last sweet drops of rain.
I want it to pour out onto this page.
Because I’m not sure anymore
what it is I am or am not dealing with
you or not you.
I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is real
or an illusion,
an emotional fight from within me
or a pursuit of something I can’t have.
I’m simply not sure anymore
and I am tired of trying to find clarity.
Nothing makes sense
Nor what I feel
or what you say
or who I want to be
or who you are.
None of it makes sense.
But as each day passes
I continue to run
with what feeds me the most passion
(as I always have)
and I find that although there are long stretches
of trots through dark forests
they are well worth
the sprints through across the sunny pastures.
The forests are dark and cool, damp
and unforgiving.
Every time I end up there I ask myself
how I let myself get lost again.
It is so dark that I wonder
how I will ever find my way out.
But the sun finds me.
And suddenly
the warm breeze waves across my face
and I am home again.
Running with spirit across the valleys so green,
looking up thankfully to the vivid blue sky
speed and strength
(I want to say love) and depth
but really there are no words
because it makes no sense.
It is not supposed to make sense-
It is passion.
and passion alone
although at times unfulfilled,
masked, tamed and relentless
is God’s greatest gift of all.