From as far back as I can remember I have loved to swing.

    big swings.

       small ones.

         the huge tire that you sat on

            and the thick rope swing.

Hold on tight.

Back and forth.

I used to look way up into the sky as I went back and forth

   imagining so many things

   places beyond the clouds

   over the rainbow lands

Back and forth.

Time would seem to stop while I amused myself on the swing.

Life would settle into a rhythm

   legs pushing hard to go higher and higher.

One place where we lived had an old swing with long, long chains.

I still remember getting that swing to go so high

   but not too high

I felt free

   above the challenges like schoolwork

Free with the wind blowing my hair

Sometimes when the girls were young we’d go to the nearby park

   after pushing them I’d sit on the swing beside them

   and push it

    back and forth

A little at first but then getting it higher.

Looking at the puffy white clouds

         and the tall trees

           all the while going higher

I miss those times on a swing.

Do you?

Times when life would slow down while I focused on going higher and higher.

Moments when my main endeavor was to go just a little bit higher

   And I knew that I could do it.

Simple times

Carefree moments

Blood pumping, legs pushing

Maybe its time for me

   to go by the park sometime soon

   Sometime when no one is there

        and find an empty swing

Just for old times sake.

Maybe,

   I will.

How about you?