Running Man in Snow – Thornton Walker
There are seconds, days, the snow comes in, when the howling smell of winter spins, then like a saved voyage for the old and the lame, I bend and stretch and remember what happened that day.
By the rock of upper Eden by Red Feather Lakes, I began a lonely run on a seasons day, by the trail of frozen Aspen far from spring and life come new, I watched the sun rising, as I ran my way to you. It was eighty six of hundred feet of elevated play headed up to ninety two odd four of rock, where the lions lay, and the breath from all my fury past flittered away, when the snow pack of the timber suddenly gave way.
Said an angel to a child, watch him slide upon his back, watch him slide on to Lake Erie, but watch him come on back, for in a second mystery for the humble and the grave, it’s just a little journey to help him love G-D today. It seems in revelations like apocalyptic doom, and this poor child of the future is wasting his time too soon, so will of all that happens and what is delayed will bring this runner higher, and bring him to grace.
When you fall through time of sorrow and you bend your back on ice, it takes from you great arrogance, and it doesn’t feel so nice, you think a lot about dying and you wonder if you’ll cry, when you sink beneath cold waters, in the mountains you will lie. Rolling and skidding like a sinner feeling scorn, resting above an icy water like a shadow on a storm. Breathing ever harder grabbing life in its quick play, what a blessing is a second, when there’s none to give away.
Said a light upon the snowy field of war over man, leave your footprints altogether, and don’t grab his hand, in the blood that’s freely flowing from the crack above his face, I cement ‘EL Elyon as judgment and I send him on his way. For there is none all the better, that will call out my name than a broken man of service for the Ancient of Days. For whom is worthy judged a man, than he who has tried, better man I love in judgment, than one covered for life.
It is not seen or known without how, I came to be pulled, from an icy shadow with a love, and my death was annulled. In the winter of my deluge when ‘EL Elyon judged me, I was taken without wanting, and with that I am free.
There are seconds, days, the snow comes in, when the howling smell of winter spins, then like a saved voyage for the old and the lame, I bend and stretch and remember what happened that day. 10.15.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל