This is where we cross the finish line.
Ere the moon beams and the sun shines,
we run,
run
run
run, pant gasp sob
It's done. The race is done.
It looks as if somehow, we won,
we won?
no
seriously
did
we? I don't believe it.
I want a recount.
Shouldn't we be racing to eternity claims us?
Shouldn't we be running till we loose ourselves to the final page?
Shouldn't we be fighting the tide until we float ashore?
Life was meant to be a race, wasn't it?
How can you win?
And slowly I feel the breath of the wind on the back of my neck
and hear the words
It is simple child. You won the race
by giving up yourself.
You won the race because you believed,
that there wasn't a race to begin with.
You believed that Beauty was found,
not in the asphalt and the numbers and
pounding feet,
but in the silent tread of the spider,
and the flap of the butterfly wing.
Blessed are those who believe;
for their beliefs will do them justice
unto all ends.