Tracks

When the heart slides along the empty rails

safe from any fierce and fast chase,

heart never embarrassed to feel the times

fear drives its nail into the spine,

and panic pounds each vein,

there is no thunder for there is no storm,

no lightning to strike as an excited flash.

 

For the dare to faint in trek of the fantastic,

risk any imagined threat to safety’s evil,

rides the track of unveiling,

the sojourn towards the deeper inner truth,

to find the path that tests the self

unclothed by masks or costumes.

 

Though the danger seers will forecast doom

who avow such faithful devotion

unto dwelling in stagnant security

though numb in their joy and expectancy.

 

Upon each jaunt into the unknown

even when it jars the body or shakes the spirit,

it is the race that summons the exuberant tides,

to those who savor the stimulus

of what stirs enthusiastic vibes within.

 

From a distance those who never

bought a ticket or even stood in line

they hide being envious

behind their soliloquy of excuses.