The blinding sun beckoned me from my slumber this morning,
summoning me to bask in its glory…
I answered the call, lacing up my new Mizunos,
each step more exhilarating than the one before…
Sailboats speckled the bay,
splashing reds, yellows and greens across the horizon…
What a brilliant canvas!
I wanted to reach out and paint mine pink…
A small yacht named Picaroon sat in the harbor,
anxiously awaiting guidance from its master…
I imagined the freedom, the freedom to command,
the freedom to steer the vessel into the distant unknown…
The sound of a child’s laughter called out,
the Giant’s orange and black visible in the distance…
I was drawn across the bay,
curiosity drew me in…
Barely over 5 years of age,
tiny souls dressed and ready to conquer the world…
boney little arms protruding from baggy t-shirts,
black war paint striped their cheekbones…
Plagued by indecision and restless energy,
they spun in circles and fell to the ground…
Chaos ensued as the bat and ball made contact,
no one sure where to throw the ball and to whom…
Fathers offered a loving but stern hand,
Mothers peering through a tattered fence with considerate and loving eyes…
Moisture slid down my cheek without realization,
Embracing the love of the American family…
Again each step, more exhilarating than the one before,
carried me home…
Past the ballpark…
Past the sailboats…
Past familiar faces heading out on their own journey…
Thank you sun for reminding me what is beautiful, important;
I am humbled in your presence.
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