A Hikers Song

A Hikers Song

Of the thought not spoken,
lies ahead a path never taken.
Focused eyes on the next bend
to me what unknown might lend.
Of these ramblings, a benefit do I get,
chasing a goal in front but not yet met.

From felt stress the body cries,
but of that, the mind denies.
And in the pulsing heart is found
a rhythm much like an ultra sound.
Muscles complain, the mind is clear,
as blood surges past an ear so near.
 Of all these things is built a test,
bringing closer the time to rest.

Then the goal sought comes in view,
it’s sight ushering up energy anew.

The feeling, slow at first, then an event,
invigorates tired fibers of muscles spent.
It springs from awareness glad
that arrival achieved is finally had.

Perspiration trickling down a face is traced,

a sweated brow wiped by a smile replaced,
and in no other way is understood
how tired bones feel so good.

John Mullinax (date unknown)