every blade of grass
the slope was as slight
as a sliderule
propped perpendicular
one end bolstered with pillow
pounded relentlessly by restless head
opposite end nestled in carpet
of tall brown grasses
with machine made tracks
disappearing around the bend
‘twas long
this decline…or incline
depending on your direction
perhaps the legs of 100 giraffes
strung out in a row
range of thought and emotion
as I started down
you’ve got this
nothing to fear
am I wobbling?
why is my heart racing?
too fast…but the hill looked so tame
why have I never learned how to properly stop?
sit!!!
I sat
oh! so close to the bottom
before the bend
as the observer
I felt anchoring buttocks
were filled with grace
then I stood up
and
kept going
Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over and whispers, “Grow, grow.” ~The Talmud
For those counting ticks and squares (or rectangles, depending on calendar’s form), I send wishes for a New Year filled with graceful ups and downs.
Chris over at Gratitudespace is collecting letters for a new anthology…Dear 2020.
Here’s a link with more information. Do you hear your Angel whispering, “Give this a try?”