There Goes Jesus, Jogging

A young man and a young woman tying up the laces of their joggers

There goes Jesus, jogging;
short black beard,
long black hair bobbing with every step,
striding easily along,
savouring the fresh, French early morning air.There goes Jesus, jogging;
I see him through the slats of the wooden fence
as he lopes down the lane.
I’d like to run beside him,
talk, if I have enough breath.
but exercise and I have ever been on speaking terms.There goes Jesus, jogging;
keeping fit for the road ahead,
the one for which I feel lamentably unfit.
I want him to slow down,
let me catch up,
but he jogs on,
intent on his inner conversations.There goes Jesus, jogging;
Will I ever catch up with him?
I don’t know.
But I do know that
unless I get into my track suit,
tie up my trainers,
and take that first step in faith
it will never happen.

There goes Jesus, jogging;
and I know I must follow.

© Sr. Sandra CSBC
Taizé, 17th May 2015

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