The Swing

I swing up and see the heavens,

I swing down and see the ground,

I grip the bars aside my face,

As I look into heaven’s grace.

The sweet, cool breeze blows around me,

I fly higher and higher than need be.

A song, a whistle, a smile, a giggle…

Mother laughs along with me.

I let go and fly,

Fly higher to reach the sky.

I hear her cry,

I wonder why, as many hands carry me.

I see her, she sees me.

I laugh, she cries,

The light, the sky,

I see it for the first time.

I reach and follow,

I hear no more sorrow.

I look down onto the ground,

She sits and swings,

I think she thinks of me.

She grips the bars aside her face,

And swings to the sky to feel my embrace.

We laugh and cry,

She saw the light for the first time.

“The swing,” she says. “The swing.”

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