There is a force in the arch of your foot that pushes you forward when you run in the sand,
a steadiness in the eyes that see the sun before it fully shakes the colours of sleep from itself into the sky.
There is reward in the ability to revel in starting the day with eyes a little heavier,
a compromise in times command to be more important than comfort.
There is a depth deeper in the palm that desires the direction of the earth,
a willingness that runs wilder in the palm that awaits the rain.
There is more truth from the tongue that doesn’t twist,
a likeliness of lies from the breath of shallow lungs.