Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Uplift to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
At the halfway mark of the marathon, my legs began to burn,
And the finish line seemed a lifetime off, with so many miles to turn.
My lungs were full of fire, and my mind began to say,
Sit down beside the roadway, and give up for today.
But a stranger in the crowd held up a little sign,
With a scribbled word of courage, and it gave me a lifeline.
Then something shifted deep inside, like a door that opened wide,
And a wind I had not known before rose up to be my guide.
My legs were light as feathers, and my breathing found its beat,
And I flew across the pavement with a rhythm in my feet.
So when you hit the wall, my friend, and you feel that you are done,
Hold on a little longer, for the second wind has just begun.
Poet of Uplift · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
Every long effort has a low point. This poem follows a runner through the wall of exhaustion to the surprise of a second wind.
At “the halfway mark of the marathon,” the speaker’s “legs began to burn,” and “the finish line seemed a lifetime off.” “My lungs were full of fire, and my mind began to say, sit down beside the roadway.” But “a stranger in the crowd held up a little sign” with “a scribbled word of courage.”
Something shifts “like a door that opened wide,” and “a wind I had not known before rose up to be my guide.” The speaker’s “legs were light as feathers.” The poem tells the reader, “when you hit the wall, my friend,” to “hold on a little longer, for the second wind has just begun.”