mdok— 5/29/21 Memorial Day

Where will I go when there’s no race-place else to run?
Where will I go when the great bell tolls “You’re Done?”
Out in the wind! Clod in the ground! A struck statistic!
The silence of sound! Merest click on Send-Delete!
Mystic-compete of ride-the-stride –to rhymed-complete?
Steed of need with no repeat!?
Where will I go to be so out of reach:
Merest grain flushed from life’s sunniest beach?
Just another answer to the loudest call?
That all-call to fall with the longest pall?
No more exegesis of hurdles to leap?
Just another to sleep in the wakeless deep?
Just another kept in the realm of — For Keeps!?

Got it! But look it!
I’m still rising for climbs in fancy’s steeps.
Woke up again today from snoozing’s deeps.
How did I awake – alive – again as Spring;
Roll out of sleep with still a song to sing?
The starting gate keeps sending me on life’s track.
See — how far I have come so far – and just a little slack.
A “me” project personified in stretches of rime:
Wrapped and tied and still being delivered on time.
Where will I go when there’s no race-place else to run?
Where will I go — when the great bell tolls “You’re Done!” —
And no clings left past the clangs to total life’s sum?

O! Comes a someday released from holds that hug one’s best;
As ever the colt on the bolt – fledgling flung from the nest:
Caught in the racing wind ever wondering woulds of coulds —
As still a-going-on-the-go while the going’s good.
Still going – with ones shoulds — to where ones heart’s at home,
As the best place to go no more tracks to race or roam.
Ah! Being There. Pastured! Where there’s hearth songs yet to be sung.
And there’s no other such grace of place for one’s running to run.

Got it! But look it! You can bet on it!
The scoreboard’s still noisy and shoots flares in the night
The mind still finds dews dancing with petals in the light.
One can still tie shoes for whatever the run on any fine day.
And just keep running – holding love’s hand — all the way.
Got it! Stay the Go! Even when it’s hard to still be “you” —
And no place else to run one’s run till one runs out of view —
And there’s no track else to go on — to be there – wrapped and tied in place.
Then, some-some-where, one’s gallop rears its whinny at some finish line.
Where?! — Victory Lane’s Prance into Memory Lane’s Dance
With all the neighs, nickers, and snorts of one’s totally “mine” rime in time.

[See my poem “Where Did You Go?” – which preceded this.]