A Stride

A stride balances with might, soothing the air and speech,
Like magic being played for the violin and player;
Musical remedies surprise that decision of footing
As feet wear the shoes of description.
My name is spelt with my stride as a putting on of air,
The same story tells itself of light air and breezes
To quell the misery and disgust we find ourselves in.
To stride is to expound and not be anxious,
Like philosophy and the dragon put together.
May walking and looking become habits
For the repetition of moves, the reasonable shoes.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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