Pebblebrook Literary Magazine

I hope that in the end of this race,
The victory does not go to the swift
Because actually I don’t move that fast
I men I have my moments, my burst of speed
But they usually don’t last
So if the race in the end is for the swift,
I could come in dead last
Because too many fast runners this way have already passed.

I was told that endurance is what counts, not speed
Because what I lack in swiftness
I can compensate through other means
Because what I lack in pure speed
I make up with pure strength
What I lack in quickness
I make up with common and uncommon sense,
A strong will that is intense,
A heart that beats a steady cadence that never quits,
Keen eyes so I can see where the dangers and which way the competition went
And if the pack is out of sight or if it’s dark
A keen nose so I can follow by scent.
All of these skills I use because I am not that quick
And I’ll be very sick
If in the end, when the race is over,
The race goes to the swift!

But only the lord knows how hard I’ve tried
And how many times I’ve raced on and hid the pain in my side
Even when the pain spread and moved to my legs
Until my brow was drenched and my face flushed red,
Only a few thumps of my pulse from being dead.
I didn’t stop but continued on instead.
So after all of this,
I’ll be inconsolable
If in the end the race goes to the swift!

Because I’m not sure I’ll win the race
But I know I’ll never be beat!
It doesn’t matter who the competition is or will be
Because side to side, the to toe, tick for tick,
They can’t measure an inch, a centimeter, or a hair above me
Or be my equal as a matter of fact!

So I’ll say this now
And I’ll say it so loud
That my voice echoes through the Heavens
Like thunder from a cloud
So that the angels’ eardrums will ring
And they’ll have to stop singing and begin to shout
Passing along the message, just as fast as it was sent
Even sharing the gossip with the devil
Because they know he’ll want to be present.

Because when I cross the finish line in the end
All laughter, cheers, and chants will cease
And in their place will be the hush of whispering and unease.
Because I promise right here and right now that
I’ll be more than upset, more than angry, or uncontrollably incensed
I will turn Heaven and earth out!
If when I finally finish this race
Find out the victory goes only to the swift!