>Back in the day
(When I walked with difficulty)
I would watch
The ankle flexes.
The foot arches.
The leg swings.
Each pace is magic.
Each motion leaves a trail of
Fairy dust behind…
Scribbles of amazement.
Now I watch people’s hands.
Look how the fingers grasp that small object!
Watch as hand and arm turn the page!
Marvel as small muscles move the pen to make letters!
At once I am filled with breathless wonder
And plunged into a sea of sadness.
My feet no longer walk.
My hands no longer write.
I hold my heart open
By celebrating the magic of motion
And forgiving myself for having to forgive
Those perpetrators unconscious of miracles unfolding.