I'm still out of breath and sweating from my run, but all that I could think about while I was running tonight was writing about running tonight.

It's a warm, humid night that is meant for running. My steps are steady as the rhythm that the crickets laid upon the evening. My feet are light as the dew thats falling across the grass. My breathing is smooth as the creek that ripples beside my path. Like the ocean wind in an open sail is the breeze upon my back. The fireflies startle the darkness with sprinkles of light, and they dance in every open field or cleared woods. The stars and the moon slip in and out of pillared clouds, which hang as epic shadows in the night sky.

And I run. The night seems to fall together around me. Like my companion on the journey it runs right beside me. It holds me and pushes me. It soothes me and quickens my pace. In it's silence we converse, and our conversations draw a depth I find too seldom. And I find God here. In the rhythm of the pace of my companion and I, God is revealed, which is why I came in the first place.

Well my roomate politely noticed that I'm starting to stink, and I've got a shower calling my name.