The following entries (from beginning runner to half marathon finisher) represents a continuing journey of tremendous grief and sorrow, and of transformation - largely through the therapeutic power of running. The sorrow that has broken my heart open wide has in time allowed me to experience the beauty of being in the present moment. And of course, without the support of family and friends to guide me, I would not have made it this far.

If you have lost someone in your life, I offer these words and verse (some Kristy's, some mine and others) with the hope it may touch your heart and help you heal.
mailto:clarksonart@gmail.com


Friday, July 9, 2010

MY CHOICE

Each day before rising
still and loose in my sheets
gently floating in my
moment of freedom

I remember the game
where a dark tunnel loomed
and we held our breath
straining to reach
a childish beacon

The intrusion of light
does not change my path
plodding ever forward
falling ever backward
my breath a volcano

But Hiroshima explodes
and the Nile rises
their strained duet
blinding and hot
demanding their revenge

Finally my eyes open
a hand is before me
my morning coffee
the reaper's bone
or the farmer's plow

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