Arches

The curve of creation.
a perfect half moon.
The tunnel I run
every June.

The arc of my story -
faith walking in fear.
Ending unseen
next step clear.

You set rigid straight beams -
simplicity vowed.
Chrome in the sun.
Structure won't bow.

I live to build arches.
Bend ancient stone lines.
Curves hold no weakness
- stronger in time.

//

The last weekend in June I run around Lake Easton. I think this is 4 years in a row. I started this poem in my head. Talking to the tunnel who has watched me pass through so many times. A cool pause on a hot run. Arches. I realized as I put my hand on its wall that my half moon, rainbow are also arches. There is so much to learn in flexibility, in bending. The pregnant belly, a curve. The strongest structure, an arch. But this shape would be called a soft line. There is strength in softness. In flexibility. Ultimate strength.