my bike

my bike

I am amazed by my bike.
It's more beautiful now than ever,
though i would never have thought so.

now, now and then, but now for the first time,
my bike is me
and i am my bike.

It is an animal
a small beast
running,
to where, away,
it doesn't matter. it runs always; i run always.

And do we run fast. we are built for it,
and everyone can see it.
i am ashamed, when i don't remember. I knew, and i must thus know.
but at times of peace, one tends to forget
awestruck by beauty,
the sensitivity for which is our nature
the only occupation we can rely on to keep us sane when artifice is forgotten.

My bike helps me.
If only i could repay it. If only i could tend it a hand full of light
a life for which nothing it would otherwise hope for in time of need, that moment in time between beginning and end.