Uncle Johnny's Bat-a poem

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

I always feel I should have great thoughts as a new year begins. Isn’t that what transitions are for? But I don’t. However, I did scribble this little poem…

Sometimes when my life obeys the rules too well

the rules that say with age comes loss

of eye and ear and friends and memory

I take my grip down low

on Uncle Johnny’s bat

remembering his hand and stand

so steady, the swing so level

That swing would lift the ball sky high

from the point where word and horsehide meet

soaring up so long and clean

and my undimmed eyes and eager legs

begin to track the arc

running through long grass

in sloping field beyond the house and barn

I hear the sound of wholeness

as ball and leather meet

and know that it is safe in being out.

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

I still have that bat.

I tweet as yooper1721.