The air's warm thickness
Always catches me by surprise -
An enveloping tropical blanket
That I breathe in and feel settling,
As I lace up running shoes
To the sweep of a broom
Outside my gate
I’m coaxed up off the perch of my
Front door step
By the prospect of adventure -
In autopilot I saunter up the driveway,
My muscles purring at the
Inevitability of the kilometres ahead
Dawn is still an hour away -
The overwhelming morning rays
That slow-cook the city
Will follow soon after,
Baking the uneven pavements
And simmering between layers of long-sleeved
Crowds, astride their spluttering scooters,
As they inch forward in morning traffic,
Past sugar cane juice vendors and the
Waft of street-food
Until the chaos and jostle of life here unfolds
I have these streets to myself -
With each new stride the pulse of blood and adrenalin
Propel me,
Numbing the aches and pains that
Escorted my lumbering frame down the stairs
Moments earlier
Allowing a freedom of feeling,
An openness and calm,
Anchors the rest of me in a
Temporary vacuum,
Sealed off from the humdrum of the day ahead -
Egos and speculations,
Emails and negotiations –
A freedom of feeling connected to oneself
Threading through the darkly lit hems and alleyways -
An urban avatar of sorts -
I choose my path,
Control my outcomes,
Primordial, raging instincts pull me faster forward until
The stillness is complete
Exhausted and gasping,
I stare at the giant orange orb
Cresting over Saigon bridge.
saigonsays 