How I marvel at the effortlessness of walking.
Now, that I do not walk with the same ease
as when I was young.
I never thought then how much I would miss the free feelings
of an early morning stroll or an evening spent wandering.
My thoughtless movement from youth on grass
to middle age marching on pavement
to tread mill machines that take me nowhere
landing me back where I started only sore and aching.
I'd as soon dance as walk but fall demons pull me off balance
bringing my knees down to be torn by gravel.
So, that my cautiousness interferes with my progression
jailing the freely part of walking, in fear.
Avoiding fear is sitting alone hands shaking with desire
to go in sun and snow, easily, like a child
who can barely be contained to walking
for want of running unrestrained
a cheetah, liquid flowing through trees, hunting its prey
rather than me, stiff here between the tension of my anxiety
and my fond memory of esplanades on Sunday afternoons
or beaches at sunset.
©2013 Judith A. Sears