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| 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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