Sublime Nudity

So the other day I found a haiku that I had written in my first creative writing poetry class.  (There is a huge difference between poetry and creative writing poetry classes but I believe that it is self-explanatory).  It goes as follows:

White red polka dots

Purple yellow stripes-nonsense words

Does clothing matter?

And it made me remember the beauty of running naked across the quad in the middle of night.  The world was dead but I was  gloriously alive.  I might not have loved my body but damn did I appreciate what it was able to do.  Legs churning, arms pumping, feeling the air everywhere as I moved, that might as been as close to the sublime that I've ever been able to reach.  There was no room for the self-conscious. 

Granted the actual words in the haiku have nothing to do with streaking but the idea that sometimes you have to take a step back and rebel against the rules is there in both.  And of course the idea that being nakkid is okay.  I tend to find the idea that our bodies are something to be covered constantly horrifying.  But at the same time, you never want to have everything on display. So its all in moderation . . . like most good things in life.