Walking

I had gone for my walk.
I do some of my best thinking
While my body moves.
And my old dog,
He expects it of course.
He gives me that look,
Brown eyes focused
Intensely on me.
If you have a dog,
I’m sure you know,
The look.
Often it’s my favorite time of day,
Him and I in rhythm,
Exploring the world,
Sharing the joy
Of the moment.
But the truth is,
I hadn’t wanted to go.

I was tired.
But I walked,
And walked and walked and walked.
And walked.
When I stopped,
I heard the voices
Telling me I was lazy,
That I needed to keep going,
Try harder.
And I thought those thoughts.
Not the walking ideas
And goals for tomorrow,
But the thoughts
That twisted and dragged
Me down.

So I walked.
I smiled as I pushed forward.
And joked and took care,
Not just my mutt,
But the people around me.
I acted
Being the clown
And the nurturer.
Capable and determined.
I danced and planned
And gave and forgave.
And walked and walked.

God, was I tired.

It’s what I do though.
Walking, giving, smiling, laughing
Going and going.
Can’t be lazy.
Can’t think those thoughts,
Can’t disappoint.
After all, there is my dog.
And the look.
You know that look.
The way they look at you.
Wanting, expecting, demanding.
And judging.
How many days,
Had I thought,
“I can’t do this.”
And finally,
I stopped walking.

You would think,
It would be a relief
To rest.
I was exhausted, after all.
But when you are walking,
(Or do I mean running away?)
You have adrenaline

Coursing through
Your fatigued body.
And when that stops
There is nothing left.
Nothing.
Nothing except,
Those inescapable thoughts,
And that deep
Aching weariness,
That makes you wonder,
If you’ll ever have the strength,
To walk again.