Night Run (from “Nothing Wasted” a collection of spoken word pieces by Anthony Rivisto)
Jogging the memory
like a path I’ve run before.
Where feet meet spots
ingrained with prior steps,
assuring that this evening’s adventure is launched from the platform
of invested time.
Ingested like air swallowed
to stretch lungs.
The dives get deeper and deeper,
enabling the eyes to adjust to the dim “scapes”, admiring the pearls laid here.
So we stay here
a little while,
until the wrestling learns resting and the mind retires to the smile, and nod,
because the spirit man
got the itinerary covered. Silencing the smothering
of extra stimulation,
less being accomplished
while the more is evaded, redundant statements,
but abundance is waiting
in the place that is hidden.
Not from but for,
invited to the table
to imbibe in the galore.
Or take time in the pure, peaceful presence I adore.
Bringing a stillness to the water, revealing the film that hovered
29
is now settling back down.
Settle down.
In this pasture that is vibrant and serene.
I am planted in Him
yet at liberty
because He is here.
We are here,
where grass blades sway
as branch leaves greets breeze
that maneuvers and orchestrates,
all in one gracious gift of ushering in the winds. And the grin is in
this exhilarating place of rest and rejuvenate. Blessed to recuperate
from stress tethered to ingested thoughts,
only caught as I take time to intertwine
His thoughts and mine,
like the needle’s eye,
I relinquish my ties
to replenish my sights.
Washed and purged, posturing first
to be brought to return
as my steps meet imprints laid here before.
© Anthony Rivisto 2018
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