I’ve been away debating for the last two days so I’ve written down my poems in a book, but forgotten to post them. Here’s me playing catch up.
As I cycle,
What becomes clear to me is that life slows down
When you are in motion,
And that is a counterintuitive statement I must explain.
As I pedal away,
My wheels revolving and covering meters of tar,
My brain fades to black,
The winding trail in front of me,
And the privilege of breathing clear air.
Life slows down,
Because as I turn through corners,
I pretend to be a MotoGP rider:
Leaning and collecting the wind as I drive past,
Allowing me to reflect on my life’s ambitions,
And every turn that landed me where I am today.