Steeplechaser

this isn't about religion, or even spirituality

but it is about your spirit,

and how you dream

of everything;

there's no limit to your vision

nor are you bound by boundary;

freedom found

under steeples chased,

feet kiss ground

pursuing a place that's truly gold;

reassurance that all things are beautiful;

a lightness of being,

like you when you run.

 

"I want to do everything,"

you once told me;

judging from the glint in your smile,

consider it done;

the future is unfolding,

the day is young;

the potential you're holding

is filled with nuclear dreams;

like the sun,

it's bursting from your eyes

and from your lips when you speak;

though there is a darkness within you,

it will never, ever stand a chance.

 

"he told me I made him find god,"

you once whispered;

apparently he didn't know

it's not about religion or even spirituality;

but it is about the spirit,

and about that place in between,

that place reserved

for we the living.

 

and I know you don't see yourself quite like I do,

like an angel always searching for a new heaven to fly to;

every day a new quest to find truth;

never knew it to be a question of faith,

it's just a quest for grace and love's equal, along the way;

we all bear crosses, for some people it's a burden;

though for some people it's an opportunity for strength,

and that's your most striking feature;

never deterred by all those needles in the hay,

I can tell by all those steeples that you chase.