Bike Ride

C’mon, Mommy!

My limbs, awkward and unused, lacking a youthful litheness
I once took for granted, gently obey.
I balance tippy toe, and the bike
wobbling underneath, patiently waits for me to settle.

My hands grip the handlebars and suddenly
it’s my fifteen year old hands holding tight
and I’m off to visit Grandma Jeanne’s.

How odd to be here and then.

Here, a bundle of six year old pent up energy
zooms by, grinning as furiously as he is pedaling
and my face breaks into joy that is contagious.

Whee! I gather up speed and
the wind whips my hair and rushes my ears and
I am then thirteen and free,
sunshine and happiness awash.

Here, his young face lit with delight
as I push closer, and closer…
as I pass, the sheer glory of it all
is written in sparkling blue eyes.

Then I am ten, and unafraid,
wind and warmth, exploring
and feeling life as myself.

Here I am breathless,
laughter and a winter’s long inactivity
catching me off guard,
and then I am breathless,
laughter and a lifetime of
possibilities before me.

Note: This poem is part of my Lenten discipline, in which I attempt to cultivate space and quiet in order to hear from God and respond with poetry. 

One thought on “Bike Ride

  1. Pingback: Wonder Years | "That got me thinking..."

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