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Saturday Morning Ritual
by Tony Whitakerwe stretched and sited
a perfect dawn
as we scan across soft
quiet wooded lake
cool mist rising
slinking ashore
adding a cool wet lick
to our brow
as we run
the shoreline
runs along
this dense wooded path
for seven miles
we smile
regal trees
arching over us
suspends belief
and sense
we run beneath
celebrated ceilings
and stained glass windows
from wet dew prisms
our jog through
wooded nave
of our gothic
grand cathedral
beckons us
to our altar
at runs end.
05/26/2007 Author's Note: Thanks Don Campbell with the word "Ritual" rather than "Run" in the final title. It was one of those, " I should have thought of that".
Posted on 05/26/2007
Copyright © 2026 Tony Whitaker
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