Strides and Slopes

I run in a circle, encircling Earth,
where measures of sorrow uphold their worth.
The length of the span between points might be none,
yet mapping the space was a measure I won.

In absence of knowing, yet knowing to not,
A fool’s elixir is to lay out life’s plot
like setting each stride with a scholar’s decree,
when sliding on slopes is the highest degree.

In fashions of sadness, new sadness I gain.
And sometimes I perish - but in a good way!
Demise brings a spark that the dark never shamed,
that leaps from the anchor to anchor in change 

To search for salvation is rooted in pain,
for pain is the water that flows to sustain,
the ebb and the rise in the tides that He brought -
In life, at its tempest, I wish to remain!

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