If Your Need

If your need to out run your troubles,
sends you into an endocrine spured panic,
each revolution of the treadmill,
(or perhaps each passing city block)
each full rotation of your cycling sneakers,
on rubber, sand or asphalt,
I pray will calm your troubled soul
will clear your mind and slow your racing heart.
But if not...
Then let me be your still desert night.
Let me cloath you in cool and calming darkness,
cover you in stars.
From clear springs let me cool your fevered brow.
In my expanisve sky may you find your healing
solace.