These old sticks weren’t made for walking.
They were made for flying,
for climbing to mountaintops where I can cast off my body like old skin and stand weightless in the sky.
These legs were made to lace with your legs,
to slide in the mud of the earth,
to lift the heaviness of life in the form of fallen friends,
and to ferry sleepy children from car to bed.
These legs were meant to do all that—to delight in carrying—and to be a lap for your weary headComments