She was here, say the footsteps
In the fresh snow, wandering across the meadow.
She was busy, say the many delicious pies,
Cooling on the counter, filing the house with luscious aromas.
She is poor, says the lack of Christmas decorations,
And the empty spaces in her tiny closet.
She is caring and thoughtful, says the tiny box
With a card and a bow fixed especially on top.
She is pretty, says the mirror, recalling the charming curls
Onto which a jaunty cap was placed as she heard the knock on the door.
She is loved, say the roses, standing in the glass vase
Placed with care on the mantle above the fireplace.
A young man has taken her away, call the footprints,
Next to her own, leading over the hill through the light snow.
They are in love, says the mistletoe that is growing above
Where the footprints stopped, before going on.
They are happy, cries the warm light
Shining through the cottage window,
as laughter gaily drifts on the chilly night air.
The sun beats down as a fire burns
Deep within my soul it yearns
To be let out, to be set free
It longs to be more than I could ever dream.
As you crouch at the starting line
The gunman takes the pistol
Slowly raising it in the air
“On your mark, set,” Crack!
The shot, still ringing in your ears,
You spring from the line and you’re off!
As the others push for the inmost lane,
You trip and fall, but they run on.
“I will not fall behind,” you tell yourself
As you race to catch up to the others
Settling into a quick jog
Push yourself faster, 3 laps to go.
Your breathing quickens to match the pace
That you force your legs to pump
Your feet begin to burn with heat
Keep running on endlessly, it seems.
Feet pounding rhythm into the ground
Battling for strength
It would be so easy to slow down
Push yourself harder, faster, forever.
Your breath is as dry as the desert sand
As you fight to lean into the wind
Rounding the last curve, recall your strength
To force the final test.
Hold your breath, your arms pump faster
Run on your toes, use the wind at your back
Lean forward, giving it your all and cross the line.
Now there’s nothing, except to breathe.