I’ve been on this trail before,

walking

with small, grumbling children –

hungry, tired –

but that’s not what we remember now:

we remember the snake,

the hawk circling overhead,

the bridge across the wide river,

spaciousness.

And now,

the wheels of this borrowed bike

rattling in the worn grooves of earth,

children speeding ahead,

the goldenrod and asters,

the sumac leaves turning,

the apples fallen on the path,

the sun and shade,

and the darkness of the forest

lurking at my eye’s corners.

My heart is full, bursting

with the lure of the tall trees,

the valleys and shadows

beckoning

with mysteries at the edge of sight.

I could slip off, wander deep,

lose myself here

for a while.

But today I stay,

on this well-trod path,

keeping pace,

keeping my word,

savouring the joy

of this small adventure,

and how much grace is granted to me

in every moment

of this blessed life.