A Worn Gaze of Knowing

It begins like an early morning rise,
tense
full of expectations
a promise of hope...
My feet find a rythm with the pedals
and I am one with the two wheeled machine.
breath quickens as wind pours over my body
and through my hair like a cool glass of water
quenching every thirst my muscles ache for.
I close my eyes as long as I can
the fear of losing control invigorating me...
urging me to go longer,
but I open them taking in the safely paved road.
A hill applies pressure to my knees and calves and
they work together to bring me to the top
little beads of sweat popping from my forehead
cooling my body down, heart beating inside my ears.
I breathe and the wind, now, pours down my throat
I can taste the wildflowers and sunset.
A blue bodied dragonfly glistens near my face
and finds his way back to his playground in the field
joining the rest of his brother's.
I reach the old, gnarled tree that emits an eerie beauty
and stop under its watch.
I am still.
insects and birds begin to speak,
and I, actually begin to listen.
They are calling to their lovers
and to their babies.
joyful tweets and echoes of belonging.
Here,
this world,
is not full of gossip
or backstabbing.
No worries of wealth
or clothing.
No thoughts of revenge
or murder.
I consider the birds of the earth.
I consider my Creator.
How beautiful it is to come here.
The peace settles in my bones
like a bird nesting its young.
My eyes water as they meet the horizon's glare
as she stares back at me with intense depth.
The knowing eyes of a loved one in their death bed.
The eyes that have seen much and regret nothing.
Who has no more worries about tomorrow nor materialism.
the sun meets me with contentment I often forget, and I
smile and nod at her. I know. I know.
I sigh and bring my foot to pedal once more,
Not wanting to hurry back, yet the downhill ride brings
me back much quicker then expected.
A small falcon races me from power line to power line.
resting his wings on every other cable.
Watching me with curiosity until he loses interest
and flies off to make a kill.
My tires follow the road to our paved driveway,
and so does something else.
As I return my bicycle I look to the horizon.
She has found me with her worn gaze.
And I have found hers, with mine.