A Dream of France

Emerging from a dream of France The miles still present in my legs and arms But dimly, like another's pain, it seems I am betwixt, stuck, half my mind adream, The other nudging now, the real.

I know I must awake, but past-wards reel To that corridor of struggle, joined in time and place With all who over centuries won or lost the race 'gainst gravity, the clock and nagging voices in their heads, And legions who through time have offered succour and a bed Or coffee with the sweetest kindness in the cruellest night.

We rode with anciens by our side, their torches' light Our guide and inspiration. Their struggles ours, their fight To conquer self, to immolate the doubt, ignore the pain, Is ours, and if we only try, begin, commit, we gain: A child's helping hand, A poly-national peloton, A thousand "Bon courage!"s Lifelong friends from 'étrangers' Sweat, sun, rain, wind, chance, Beauty, pain and the best of France.