Thursday 16 August 2012

'Run with the Fire' poem

Run with the Fire

Stripped down - free of weights and encumberance -
muscles taught and trained, eyes on the prize -
on track, no turning back - forgetting what is behind,
straining toward what is ahead, winged feet
bearing tongues of flame - inextinguishable flickers
of hope, the torch passed on through generations,
message of victory - peace, goodwill to all.

How lovely are the feet - run red-raw, blistered
and calloused, dust-encrusted yet lithe as leopards
and fleet as foxes - which pound the mountains,
hills, valleys and plains, echoing through history
from Marathon to London via Jerusalem.

Jonathan Evens

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