Centred

Pump up like a bicycle tiring of the trip

Never arrive

Jumped-up like a shiny suit that it seems will rip

Barely alive

Leaning forward

Lean-to

Caught out for a sixes and sevens fall

Winter today

Brought out for an outing I call my call

Whither away?

Looking forward

Looking to

The horizon

The horizon

The horizon

This world curls over

And coyly hides its eyes

I can run, I can swim

I can fly

But I can never reach the horizon

Take stock, still beating my heart in time

He lives in me

Late shock: am I eating? partake, in the climb?

Delivered free

Hours to breathe

Ours, too

He’s not waiting on the tables to turn and run

He’s in today

He’s not fading ‘cos I’m ageing or whining or blunt

He isn’t prey, pray

This is still

His will

It’s the centre

It’s the centre

It’s the centre

This peace takes over

And humbly lifts its eyes

I have run, I have swum

I have tried

And been found to spend my life in the centre

In the centre

In the centre

(C) 2013 Rebekah Robinson

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