How It Is
This is how it is.
The things we do best we never plan.We just let go, so our bodies take over.
The memory of where our feet fell,In beautiful balance, at that perfect moment.
And our arms, hands and fingers,
As we abandon ball and fear,
When we watch, outside ourselves,
The red trajectory,
And our heart stops and leaps,
Because we win.
Bowling out of the dark into the light,
With no hope and no plans,
And the best moments the ones
We never dreamed of
Until they were complete.