I Want To Run

My life is lived in a series of short trips. A short trip from this chair to that chair, from the door to the car, from the car to the door..... Pain rules my life.
I want to run and play hide and go seek. I want to play tag. I just want to run. I want to ride a horse, own a horse; muck out the stalls, clean the hooves, carry sacks of grain and bales of hay. I want to fling a saddle over my shoulder and carry it to the barn, and throw it on the horses back. I want to put my foot in the stirrup and swing into that saddle, then I want to run....
I want to climb a tree, and a hill, and a mountain. I want to crawl under a fence or a log, or over a fence or a log. I want to wade in water with a mucky bottom that pulls at my feet. I want to slide down a muddy hill, and walk through tall wet grass.
I want to sit on the floor, and do summer-saults, and cartwheels. I want to lay on the ground and watch the stars or the clouds. I want to swing, and slide, and climb, and ride, and run....