In Walking, I Find Myself

When I walk

I soar

I lift from the pummeled pavement

When I stroll

I fly

from the gravel down below

I implore you to find

a better way

to sift through thoughts

than a walk once removed

from the drudgery of daily existence

To amble is to wander

down abandoned hallways

wafting words from windswept places

To plod is to punish the past

and cement it in its proper place

I need not the comforts of predictability

nor the empty sounds of mindless chatter

I need a road on which to walk

I need a path to call my home