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The Grace of the Game


Kylie Dawson Playing Soccer, enjoying the Grace


Amidst the chaos of the Olympic year - the expectation, the stress, the exhaustion - I find peace in the simplest of places, the place where I have always found grace - in the game.  

Here is my poetic tribute to the Grace of the Game.


The Grace of the Game

When I was young.
In a song unsung,
In the melody of play
Sweeping me away
The Grace of the Game
Called me by name.

I heard it.
Through open ears,
Wisdom beyond my years,
In the tap of a ball
Beating back – drumming - against the wall.

I saw it.
On long summer drives,
And in the joyful slapping of fives
In courageous eyes
A power beckoned itself alive.

And I felt it.
In the fever of night,
And morning bright,
In afternoon calm,
The whispers of a wordless psalm,

I found it.
Yes, the grace.
In the focus of a face
In the midst of a race
Running tirelessly at breath taking pace.

I found grace
In a timeless space.
On a field,
Will steeled,
In the power of a hand,
Obeying a command,
A flick of a wrist,
A bend, a swoop, a twist,
A wand swung,
Magic rung,
Birds sung.
And poof - like that - the game was done.

Grace was won.

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