Walk On

“Walk On”
My fine white steed moves out to the center ring
Strong muscles bulge in ways I can feel
His mane is clean and tied into tidy knots for the circus crowd
He pulls my muscles in strange and unusual ways
That unexpectedly hurt and feel good
All at the same time.
They clap and call him Indy but I just smile and say
“Walk On”.
And I shall call him My Fine White Steed.

“Walk On”
My son will never hit the hanging curve, never field the bouncing punt
Never run to me and say, “I love you Papa”.
He will never have all A’s
Never be the class disrupter, never sling burgers at Mickey D’s.
But today my son passed by me saying,
“Walk On”.
And I called to my son with watery eyes.

“Walk On”
This boy has come a long way from dead silence and frothing resistance,
Fear trembling his lax frame. Living the life
Of wheel chairs and baby food, no boyhood memories
To take to an early grave.
But this is a good day for fun and games.
I can still hear the first words he ever spoke.
We all looked at each other not daring to believe
That this silent child had finally cried out,
“Walk On”.
Truly miracles happen on a horse’s back.