Originally Posted by
XRunner
The Runner
(with thanks to Neil Harding McAlister - and modified to suit me)
Your urgent, crunching footfall down the faint sheep track,
Grows fainter as you disappear into the setting sun.
Your painful gasps I almost feel, as twilight skies fade black,
But you will practice breathlessly ‘til many miles are run.
I shield my burning eyes to watch your small, lithe silhouette
Dash silently along the path as nightfall swallows day.
The moon hangs in the sky, although the sun has not quite set,
And child, I feel afraid, because you seem so far away.
When you were only five years old I jogged right by your side
Just slow enough to let you win the race and share your fun.
Then you grew tall and strong; and soon it filled me with such pride
To watch you speed ahead and fly as I had never run!
You traded in your booties for an athlete’s running shoes.
Somewhere I’ve got those Inov8s I bought the day that you were born.
While you run forward, I look back, amazed at how you grew:
A father’s coming sundown is his daughter’s brilliant morn.
When was the last time that you took my hand to cross the street?
Or ran to me in glee when you were playing on our lawn?
The childhood firsts come scampering on noisy, little feet;
But last times creep up quietly -- then quietly, they’re gone.
Could this young, graceful runner, who will be a woman soon,
Have been the helpless baby whom I cradled in one hand?
Now, heedless of the gathering dark, beneath this autumn moon
You pound a firm, determined pace while night enfolds the land.
Someday when my skies darken, perhaps thoughtless men could say,
“He was not famous, rich or wise. What great things has he done?”
From mortal limitations we can never run away;
But when I squint with failing eyes into that setting sun,
And see you running in Life’s race,
No matter who might claim first place,
I’ll know that I have won.
