passing through lake park
on my way to a friend's house
i stopped to play on the toys.
after a few bobs on the springy duck
i made my way to the swing set.
i sat in the saddle, wondering how
long it had been since last i swung,
let alone on these very swings.
not long ago, last fall perhaps,
i had swung on some very fine swings
at another park,
but these, these swings here,
i had not played with in over
three years.
pumping the chains, my soft hands
raging against the hard metal,
i could not understand
why i had not done this very thing
everyday
since my first swing back home,
where we would jump from
the moving swing, attempting to clear
the raised earthen dias where
the swing set lived in the back corner
of our back garden.
this evening seemed to be
the culmination of all those days
long past,
with the sun long past setting,
with the twilight wearing its
most fancy of silver moon slivers,
with venus as a subtle yet powerful
accessory and witness to the event.
in celebration, i leaned way back
on the counter swing,
the sickly sweet rush of motion
welled up in my stomach
as i was quickly thrust back upright,
the fresh night air accented with the
fragrance of moist spring earth
assailing my senses.
i looked around the park,
the universe revealed itself to me,
clear and precise,
while swinging on that swing.
"Power is only important as an instrument for service to the powerless."
Lech Walesa