Email Poem

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Personal Note:
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Poem
When did I learn to walk?
The awkward stance,
a toddler’s uncertain step,
stumbling, falling, 
getting up again until
rhythm of feet and
balance work in sequence, 
was that when I learned
to walk? No.

When did I learn to walk?
Kindergarten marches,
a military parade of sorts
around a classroom, 
rhythm band instruments
in hand, banging on toy
cymbals and drums
to the measured beat
of feet and blare of
prerecorded sound? No.

When did I learn to walk?
Was it the long hours
in marching band
practicing routines,
memorizing music, 
and the beating of feet  
on hot pavement along 
humid parade routes on
July mornings in hot
woolen uniforms? No.

When did I begin
to learn to walk?
From the moment
I held your hand, strolling
by the Strand Theater
on the sidewalks of St.
Paul, along the shores
of Lake Como on
Spring and Summer nights,
through Rosedale, your
hand in mine as we looked
at engagement rings
in jewelry store windows
and dreamed dreams.

I learned to walk
in earnest down
the aisle of
St. Bridget of Sweden,
into a new wedded
life filled with
wonder and love,
the many walks of 
pregnancies, Pitocin 
drip walks down
hospital corridors,
during nights with
restless infants, and
sick children, to
parks and baseball
diamonds, plays
and musicals, concerts
and gymnasiums,
graduations, weddings,
funerals, grandchildren,
all of them walks
along the spherical
path of life.

To walk with you is
to learn how to love,
each measured step,
a grace-filled journey
to something greater,
far beyond and far better
than the stumbling steps 
that I could have
made on my own. 

To walk with you,
is to see the
world with different
eyes, colors bursting
through the greys,
warmth on the
coldest of days, your
voice floating, playing 
delightfully in the air
alongside until the 
sound settles gently,
gracefully in my ears.

We have walked many
steps together in life, 
my gait now not as steady, 
these days of uncertain
limbs, joints and cane. 
In walking with you, 
new discoveries never
end, new beginnings
abound, and that
with you, the first, 
and the finest of
all teachers, learning
to walk is never
fully learned.
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