Running the Reckless Road

Take off your shoes.
Walk down the slopping sands
Of forgotten footprints
Until your bare feet
Feel the refreshing grip
Of the sea,
Sending you tingles and nerves
Of shock
And satisfaction.

Then you run.
Run as fast and reckless as you can.

Salty sea sprays will
Splash up
And dot your face
With briny tears of exhilaration.

The waves will
Flow in
And out,
In
And out,
Letting your flat feet
Slap against the mushy sand.

The beating sun
Will shine in your eyes
Brighter than it ever has before.
Blinding you with
A spotlight
Beaming directly at you,
Indicating that for now,
Nothing else matters
But you
Sprinting through the thin
Layers of foamy water
And muddy sand.

Broken shards of shells
Peeking out of the sand
Will stab at your feet
Like angry memories
Trying to get you to turn around
And walk back
Into the past.
You do not stop.
The memories may hurt.
Hurt both your feet
And your heart.
But, running ahead
Is too important to turn back.

The smell of stinky fish used to dwell in your nose,
Now there is only
The scent of crisp, breezy sea air
Flying into your nostrils
In a heavy stream.
The scent is brought by the
Whistling winds
That whisper the high pitched
Songs of the sea
That lure you farther along
The shore,
Making you run faster
And farther than you ever intended.

Pure white seagulls
Rise and plummet
In the air
With precise flaps of their strong wings.
They squawk at you teasingly.
You just want to
Spread out both of your arms
And thrash them about
Up and down
Until you take off
Shooting into the sky like a
Missile,
Rapidly passing the seagulls
In fleeting seconds.

You keep putting your two feet
In front of you,
Going farther and farther away from where you started.
But, the sun does not shine forever;
It`s spotlight will fade
And descend,
Looking for someone else
In the world to focus on next.
Once the last bulbs of the spotlight
Flicker off,
You will have to get off the rough terrain
And begin to walk
On the softer,
Safer one.
Much slower than before,
You`ll have to make your way
Along that cautious road
Of sick, false comfort.
You`ll have to live your life on the
Reserved route.
Hating the dry sand
That sticks to your legs
And the forever
Scorching ground
Will become part of
Your daily life.
You`ll have to live like everyone else,
Becoming just another pair
Of forgotten footprints
Imprinted in the sands
For a very short lifetime
That had led absolutely no where,
Until
You can take off your shoes,
Go to the water,
And run under the spotlight
For just one more glorious moment
That will be engraved in your lifetime.