By Angela R. Watts Copyright 2015
Going too fast,
Take it slow,
now fall behind
and things are in slow motion.
Fast, go go go,
go too fast,
you try, but cannot focus.
Are you weary or are you very,
very ready to run?
While you’re wondering what steps to take,
you take none.
You have made steps and mistakes
you have not made,
all in your mind, they are not real.
You say the voices are gone,
but you still listen to them.
Stopped in your tracks,
fast or slow? Fast or slow?
Two roads. Two paths.
Did you fall here or did you stop days ago?
I want to tear on. Forget, and move on,
go fast so things blur to better,
the past is far behind.
But the past is always there
and I swear the farther we go
the closer it gets.
But I’m not running fast anymore.
My steps have slowed,
the world is still turning,
my thoughts are going static,
can’t see too clear right now.
Things are crystal,
and the crystal has broken,
on the floor,
shattering into millions of pieces.
I can’t see them all,
but I know they must be there.
All about, the pieces strike.
I tried to fix it but it means
My fingers are bleeding but I look up
I can only see
a few feet in front of me
and things look the same
as they always have.
The red light is
shines in a
Hills appear, farther, mountains.
I feel hiking boots appear on my
I inch myself upward.
Higher higher, it feels like nothing,
and yet, the air changes and I feel that.
Profuse confusion, solutions
If they were there,
they are stepping away.
Fight it? We’re merely igniting it
all while saying ‘leave us be’.
They say ignoring will do the trick,
and yet, I see corresponding, all around.
Address or ignore.
Which one will help I do not know,
Going on green, set,
going, stepping, dodging.
Yellow is far behind but ahead,
I see where the red might flash.
All in my head, all in my mind;
the red light doesn’t exist.
Awards, glory, profit- what do I run for?
Thoughtlessly stepping? No,
that cannot be the case.
Nor will I run for swift happiness,
awards, and glory, and profit.
I must walk for the Greater,
and the out come, and the stepping stones,
all of this will mean everything and not a bit less,
if they are true and from Thee, then they are worth more than the
Over one hill,
here we go,
out of the colors,
red green and yellow,
and into the reality.
Vast plains, trees of green,
land of plenty. I see before my eyes.
Blessed! The lights of the world are gone,
I only see one Light now. And this one runs on many more colors
than red and green and yellow.
Brighter, bigger still! Shining!
The Light does not merely tell me at which speed to
Thou direct my paths but leave me not
for the outcome alone.
This Light sticks with me,
carries me, firms my step so that this outcome,
this one will mean everything the more.
My hands were bleeding and now,
the Light has covered them with wraps.
They have began to scar, my flesh is weary.
Not to be gone, these scars are not to be forgotten or rid.
They will serve as a reminder, and better yet, my hands will be ready for more
And with those broken pieces, more blood, but when I turn, I surely will see the Light whom will
my running is gone, meaningless,
for someone else but not me.
I am not going slow, I am not running, I am not stopped.
With the Light, my steps are firm, my eyes are up,
and so I have nothing for going too slow, or stopping, or running.
The Light is not behind me.
The red would have been far behind me, I would have been running on, trying to
escape the yellow my feet were falling in,
scared I might see the green flashing.
But this Light shows me great sights.
I cannot turn myself, turn my eyes downward,
or else I will focus on my steps;
surely, surely, then I will fall, and the flashing
lights will control me.
I cannot turn my thoughts to any of those lights.
If I turn away, if only for a moment,
I will lose my Light.
Not because the Light leaves me,
but I will leave Thee.
So I turn my eyes higher up
and I smile.
The broken pieces,
scattered about on that floor,
the scars from them on my hands;
have furthered me along my path.
The pain I felt, and the anger, and the hurt- it was all real,
but now, those lights mean nothing, and I live for
the Greater Light.
I am not running from the pieces.
I know I cannot put them back together;
I was tired of holding on,
and of letting go,
and of saying nothing-
I run no more.
The pieces scream fear in me no longer,
I remember them, but dwell no more.
The past is not to be ran from,
but to be learned from.
Whether a hill lays before me,
or a mountain,
or a valley, or a gorge,
or the rockiest of cliffs, or the
vastest of deserts,
it matters not.
I have seen that the Light has many names,
but for me, in two of many,
He is my Light and my Salvation.
-Angela R. Watts