In Honor of Voodoo

I am dedicating this post to Voodoo. Lori posted a great running poem that I will keep. Each time I read it I will remember Joe fondly:

You’re wide awake in stillness
Pulling laces in the dark
Your aging tendons stretch and strain
To stir the inner spark
You run to greet the morning light
Once more you climb that hill
Your heart responds with warming grace
Your lungs embrace the chill
The radiance of the rising sun
The sweetness of the day
Embrace you like your mother’s voice
The world just falls away

From road to ridge and trails beyond
You trust your inner guide
You find the rhythm to the run
And open up your stride
You glide and roam the gentle trails
Like water over stone
Your body sings a melody
It echoes through your bones
The course descends into the glen
The way it winds and weaves
Your footsteps softly fall upon
Wet musty Autumn leaves

God bless the runner
And God bless the word
The word is flesh in motion
Everywhere it’s heard
God bless the runner
And God bless the word
A meadow lies beyond the trees
Beneath a cloudless sky
Tall grasses rustle in the breeze
You ride the runner’s high
You push yourself until you feel
That old familiar burn
Relax into a gentle pace
Before the final turn
And when you reach that resting place
You’ll stand profoundly spent
You’ll dig your feet into the earth
Your soul will rest content

God bless the runner…