Running Toward the Prize (mp3)

When life is one big dream,

and it spins and it laughs

and it runs in zigzags

across the brilliant green,

the full-bloomed fields of spring,

everything is brand new,

and everything grows wild—

everything is bigger than the child.

Then come the dust and heat

and the labored living,

taking, giving—

so, where do these ends meet?

and when do two make the one complete?

Air so thick with life,

yeah, and all the summer drones—

lonely, lonely, yet never alone.

Running, falling, pulling myself up again—

Running, falling, thinking it will never end—

Running, falling, running, falling,

Through the truth and the lies—

Running, falling, running toward the prize.

So, on and on it goes

till it feels like something

a long time coming

is blooming like a rose

despite the threat of snow.

Reach that higher plain,

and don't look back on what has been—

just stand and face the long hard journey's end.

Running, falling, pulling myself up again—

Running, falling, thinking it will never end—

Running, falling, running, falling,

Through the truth and the lies—

Running, falling, running toward the prize.

There's a cabin hidden in the hills of Heaven.

It is well lit, it is welcoming and warm.

And an easy chair begs, "Come, rest by the fires that forged the world."

The view goes on forever, and friends are always at the door.

Words & Music:  Michael Cody

Publishing:  Window on the West (ASCAP)