All visible visibly
Moving things
Spin or swing,
One of the two,
Move, as the limbs
Of a runner do,
To and fro,
Forward and back,
Or, as they swiftly
Carry him,
In orbit go
Round an endless track ( W. H. Auden)
Miner Edison Peña ran everyday 5-7 miles through the tunnels of a collapsed Chilean mine to survive his horrible imprisonment. Officials of the New York City Marathon are trying to get Edison to participate, either as guest or runner, in the famous annual Nov. 7 event. How I'd love to meet Edison Peña! How I wish he goes to New York!
Only the distance athlete who runs everyday, mile after mile under any conditions, undeterred by physical and emotional fatigue & always living for that final exhilaration of one more run completed can appreciate the remarkable feat that was Peña's daily ritual in the Chilean mine. What a thrill it'd be to meet this remarkable man!
I've run myself pretty consistently for about 25 years now & can attest to the almost remarkable 'saving' properties of daily physical exertion. I run not because I'm competitive (though it certainly brings out the competitiveness in me) but rather to feel the earth's and body's rhythms in the stride and arm swing: to feel the bird's flight as a companion to breath and engage the moon's mystical babble at pre-dawn. Yes, mystics and runners converse with the moon. I believe in the runner's power of one, the monomania & Sisyphean urge to conquer the enemy of human limitation: I believe, most of all, in the running form (the only real trace of the eternal left in us) & the way it takes us through need and personal anguish.
This is as close as I can come to describing what I and & anyone else committed to conquering the enemy of distance & time share in common with Chilean runner Edison Peña. The comparisons between us end abruptly here. The run is actually Edison's gift to us since what I've described here can only serve as a partial reenactment of his own daily mythical journeys through the gold and copper passageways deep inside a desert. A glimpse only, palpable and genuine, into the man's ferocious heart & spirit.
It's to Edison I dedicate my own 6 mile journey into tomorrow's pre-dawn night.
2 comments:
I seriously considered changing the title of Moving Poems to Multimedia Gumbo, and refrained only because I didn't want to give Mr. Silliman a swelled head. But it is what I aspire to, both in the sites I curate and in my own work. People who are concerned about whether something is poetry or not bore me to tears.
Hi Dave
perhaps Silliman's use of "gumbo" wasn't as snide as I'd thought. I do recognize the beauty & legitimacy of the form though I've got a lot to learn yet.
Thanks for visiting.
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