After tonight's group ride - which ended up with some rather significant climbs, cobblestones, cinder paths, paves paths, playing in traffic, and dropping a couple riders (in short, just about everything you could want) - I turned on the radio as I left to my favorite radio station - the local public radio station that only plays classical music - to hear a tribute to Jewish music, as it's the feast of Passover. It was really nice to hear something a little different than the normal things one hears. I found it to be at once sad and hopeful, hence it's mention here. It also inspired the first poem today.
Solo
A single note, full of want,
waivers simply in the air,
forlorn and haunting as the melody grows,
a song of loss and woe,
remembering loved ones
from long ago,
nameless faces across the generations,
that inspired a people's faith,
broke a king's will,
and breathed freedom.
Climb
The climb looks daunting and deadly,
the turn in the middle faces the wrong way,
it will be steeper, but that is the route.
It begins, and the rhythm starts,
turn the crank, drop the gear,
raise the cadence,
drop again,
out of the saddle and back in it.
Accelerate.
Climb.
Breathe.
Screw the turn. Turn the screw.
Create the rhythm again,
ever climbing up,
not giving in.
Freedom is at the top.
And I will win it.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
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