Kenneth Scott

To Run Senselessly

I run.

I run.

And I run.

I have been running for decades now, just running,

running to and from work, running to and from church,

running to and from the stores, just simply running,

not even paying any serious attention to the world around me,

to the people who act like they’ve lost their natural minds,

to the current events that are draining hope and courage out of

just about everyone, to life in general, life in general,

life in general. I just run, running out of breath, joints aching,

barely keeping up. I just run, sometimes wondering why I run,

why I allow myself to be reduced to nothing more than

a hamster on a treadmill, running for his natural life and

going nowhere, running for food, running for clothing,

running for shelter, running for some kind of paycheck,

so that I can keep on affording to live, just running,

just running, just running, running, running. And it would

make sense if I had a destination I was running towards,

some great prosperity, some opulent wealth, some colossal career,

some famous name, some golden palace, some promised land

somewhere. But I don’t. I just keep running, running, running

this mindless marathon of mediocre maintenance, just running,

with sorrowful loneliness as my running companion, just running and

wondering how I wound up here, wherever here may be.

Maybe I’m running now, running, running, running, to forget,

running to forget, running to forget that a good part of my family died

when my Mom died, and no one left behind has even thought of

coming forward to try and fill in that horrendous gap,

to even try to be as loving and nurturing and joyful and gentle

and healing as she was. And sometimes, I find myself wondering,

for a brief instant, if they ever could. And then I keep running,

running, running, running to forget it all, just running, just running,

just running. Maybe I’m just running, running, running,

because I know, deep down inside, that if I really stop running

and rest,

for one

brief

instant,

I will fall down and burst into a billion endless tears, tears, tears,

tears for all the times I could have lived and didn’t,

tears for all the times I should have loved and didn’t,

tears for so much loss, so much loss, so much loss

over so many years, so many years, so many years, tears

for all the dreams I’ve had to lay to rest in the earth

like a mother losing all of her precious children,

like a father losing the will to live when his last child falls like

an Autumn leaf. And I am so weary of running, running,

running, running, running. But it seems as though running

has become the only thing I know how to do well,

really, really well. And so, like a creature of sorrowful habit,

I run, and I run, and I run, and I run, and I run,

run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, as if to

escape some lifelong pain and yet utterly forgetting

that the pain is already deep down inside of me,

causing me to run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run.

---

Lord,

I just want to stop running.

Lord,

I just want to rest without weeping.

Lord,

I just want to sleep without

wasting away,

Lord.

---

I run,

and I run,

and I run,

run,

run,.

run.

What is the Sound

If a tree falls

in the midst of an abandoned forest,

does it make a sound?

If a lonely man falls

in the midst of an abandoned home,

does he make a sound? Will anyone hear

his tears?

Will anyone understand?

Will anyone care?

What is the sound of one hand clapping?

What is the sound of one tear falling?

What is the sound of one heart breaking?

What is the sound of one soul weeping?

What is the sound of one lonely man lost

in an endless abandoned wilderness?

Do love, mercy, and forgiveness have a sound?

What is the sound of healing?

When hope is restored to the heart,

is there a sound?

Can one hear the Sound

of Eternal Love?

A Friend to Remind Me

I travel a path,

a long, distant, desolate path soaked with tears,

all the days I have wept over the meaningful moments

lost to forgetfulness. I just need someone to remind me.

I have grown weary on this endless path,

so weak that the number of times I slip and fall

only seems to be increasing; and I have to move with a quickness

to get back to my feet before someone else sees me,

thinks I’m an easy mark, and attacks without mercy.

I need someone to remind me, anyone who cares. I

once had a clear sense of purpose, or did I,

before it was lost to the shadows of obscurity with each passing

decade, my footsteps automated like a creature of habit

locked in a futile pattern, my eyes repeatedly blinded by the Sun

as I keep looking up to heaven for some sort of answer to

who and what and why I am. Can someone please,

PLEASE remind me of the things that make our souls real.

I just need to remember why we have to love one another.

I just need to recall the greater value of a bitter truth

compared to a sweet lie. I just need to be reminded of why

we must always use things for the love of people

instead of using people for the love of things. I just need to remember

what it means to have dignity, to have self-worth,

to have a meaningful sense of understanding, to have love,

so that in remembering, I can recognize my destination,

once and for all, put an end to traveling this weary path,

and truly rest. All I need is a friend to remind me,

from time to time.