Surge of Triumph

Tension’s electric
As it calmly builds.
Building static.
Running.

Not looking back.
This is over
Coasts and
Heartlands,

Over mountains
And fields
Of grand design.
It surges:

Flash and thunder
Alters flesh
And bone into
Light itself.

Bands of tendons.
Now gunsmoke
As they action
And fire.

Time’s come
To run,
Unsure,
Wayward.

Peaceful woods
Of fresh trails
And elevated
Old growth.

It mantles triumph
In exodus.
Every misty
Morning sends us

Off in the horizon.
A mountain chain
Has been broken
By a valley.

Kinetic electric
Adrenaline instruments
Tireless seekers
Still tense,

Ecstatic to run
To wonder with
Fingers on the surface
Of maps uncharted.

A wandering
Runner
Pulse of a
Spark.

Thick forests
Shot through.
Dark maps
Set to fire.

Plains now grand,
Blood in the hand
Shed to scale
Mountains.

Teeming legs
Of energy
Stood to see
Out to that valley.

Across tracts in
Grasslands
And fearless
Into flowing crystal.

Rivers tracing
Down the center
Of this grand design.

What might tension
Find when it
Sings
Through the yard?

Summitting its will
With static grip.
Wind in wisps
Cause a cold chill.

It sees a trail,
Unmarked,
It wishes to
Wonder.

Epic tension in
The shoulders
And
Tired eyes:

Frission of kinetic
Energy
Will scar this
Grand design.

Will never cease
To wander
By its will
Staring out at

Unventured lands.
Tension creeps up
The spine and
Infects the neck.

A spark
Radiating through
Arms and legs
Built of light.

Eyes drunk
By the drink
That is this
Landscape.

Running to it,
Time’s come.
This is over, so
Don’t look back.

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