I always picture you running.
Not in fear, or to get away,
But the way I used to watch you run the track when we were young:
Head held high,
Chest thrust forward almost comically.
All your movements are precise and efficient.
Your blond hair trails behind you wildly trying to keep up.
You carry a soft slight smile,
That your lips perfected years ago.
You are one of the strongest women I know.
Even through the obstacles, you run with power.
I don't always know how to help you...
You move so fast.
Even your thoughts move faster than mine.
But in the low points,
Know that your running will take you to great places.
Pace yourself, beautiful sister.
You will get there.
And I will be behind you, trying to keep up.