It was never the
thought of gold or glory
that inspired me.
It was the perfectly executed movements
that my mind choreographed
for my body.
Like an eagle’s
masterful dive toward prey,
my limbs would achieve weightlessness
as I sprang off the vault
or spun around the uneven bars.

My muscles remember
legs tumbling over arms
tumbling over legs
across newly mowed grass.
Strong, flexible, graceful;
never falling.

Just when
did my body
give up on such things?
Replaced by an
achy shoulder,
grouchy back, and
a fear of pulling a muscle
at even the thought
of letting go of gravity
to sail once more.

What Olympic sport did you dream about competing in when you were a child?  gymnastics and figure skating were the two that I dreamed about.  And always in those dreams was the sensation of nearly flying and moving with perfect grace.