He says depression takes too much commitment, and he doesn’t feel it
Blue is simply sad for a moment, knowing that at every sunrise,
hidden just under that pinkish horizon,
dancing in the vanishing point, is hope.
Dawn of a new day in every morning,
in hot coffee and running shoes, a humble acceptance that feelings are just temporary.
He’s found joy in running hard again
with his spirited Australian Shepherd,
he feels thirty again,
and I can’t say I blame him.
To quit anything you love for any length of time,
even for the sake of saving knees, is depressing, so coming back must feel
like finding an old friend.
Finding that inner-joy in doing something that he used to do all the time, and he remembers good ol’ days, the laughter, the stories, and the pranks,
but instead of hiding in Mauldin,
he honors that memory with running
carrying his friends in his mind,
and dog treats in his pockets.
Not knowing the impact he has on me, he goes about his day,
never guessing that he has inspired me so much that I have begun to run again.
Now it is my turn to be non-commital,
and shed the weight of my depression.
It is time to reach within myself,
and cast away my shackles, running free.