(It's still at the top of my Christmas wish list; perhaps this year...)
Were I to walk again,
I’d venture to a granite covered peak
after emerging from towering forests,
and look out over the distant hills
all the while eager to plan my next trek.
Were I to walk again,
I’d visit each lighted beacon along
the Great Lakes’ shoreline,
climbing their narrow spiral stairways
to view from atop, those magical freshwater seas.
Were I to walk again,
I’d strap down sinew and wooden snowshoes
to my feet,
and tramp across deep, freshly fallen powder
at dawn on a frigid, moonlit New England morn.
Were I to walk again,
I’d cross miles of sandy beach,
pretending to hold in my hands the leashes
of my two lost loves,
imagining them once more exploring by my side.
Were I to walk again,
I’d gladly slog through mud,
cross rushing brooks,
climb endless stairs,
and never utter a complaint.
For were I to walk again,
I’d drop to my knees
to thank Him, who is giving me another chance
to experience that which is
taken for granted by the rest of the world.
- Frank Orlowski
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