The lone runner . . . landscapes moving by as a vision smoothly . . . slipping from our grasp and observation . . . the feel of wind whipped cheeks cool and salty like tears . .. a tempo settles in and moves the listener . . . we can fly too, with the wings of our feet kissing the earth . . . the soil of our beginnings . . the cradle of our desperation . . our dream . . brilliant stars move beneath . . lifting us higher . . . each speck of flame in the black universe. . . a song . . . a melody which flows like a breeze through our soul . . . the dust of the stars . .. build our bones . . . and give us strength for the race . . . Thank you for the music to inspire me and cool my burning bones. . .