Circling
In the freeze frame that is my mind’s eye I can see you there. Coiled. Your four big strong paws spread wide across the ground. A low center of gravity. A stable pad from which to lift off.
5...4...3...2....
Potential about to become kinetic. Ready to spring. Mischief in your eye
The crouching posture and wild eyes say that neither you nor I have any idea in which direction you intend to launch. Only that wild hair tickling your butt and some fanciful flight -- only they know which way you’ll go when you finally launch yourself
But launch you do. 0 – 60 covered in but seconds. By the time your rear paws have leapt past your front paws … by that first bounding progress you’re up to speed, effortlessly covering
Feet
Yards
Acres
Miles
With reach and drive and precision, four paws leave but two prints. The back paws land in the front paw’s print with target sure accuracy.
Your feet dig in with such purchase I could almost believe this illusion: Your powerful legs are driving the Earth's rotation.
Suddenly I see it. It’s no longer you gliding across the surface. Instead, the Earth is a wheel beneath you. And it is your powerful paws digging in, keeping all in spin
.
The backyard is too small for you. Fences alter your course. You turn. Your circles barely clear the chain link but you take in the whole of it. Lap after lap. Figure eight after figure eight. Your butt bunches. Your back is cocked. It explodes with each bound…
…then just as suddenly your back is arched. Your airborne front paws are above your head. Your airborne rear legs are fully extended behind.
You are flying.
And now…
In the freeze frame that is my mind’s eye I can see you there. Coiled. Your four big strong paws spread wide across the ground. A low center of gravity. A stable pad from which to lift off.
5....4....3....2.....
Potential about to become kinetic. Ready to spring. Mischief in your eye.
But now the crouching posture and wild-eyed look says you’re grabbing the Earth. Hanging on for dear life. As though the world is spinning out of control. You widen your stance. Dig in for stability.
Neither you nor I have any idea in which direction you intend to launch. Only that wild hair tickling your butt and some fanciful flight -- only they know which way you’ll go when you finally launch yourself.
But launch you still do. Mostly forward now. Not bounding. Your mind is still young and mischief still there. We have outlived our bodies, you and I.
The circles are smaller and fewer now. The fences aren’t in the way. The fences don’t even come into play. But some day. Some future day we will leap them.
In the freeze frame that is my mind’s eye I can see you there. Coiled. Your four big strong paws spread wide across the ground. A low center of gravity. A stable pad from which to lift off.
5...4...3...2....
Potential about to become kinetic. Ready to spring. Mischief in your eye
The crouching posture and wild eyes say that neither you nor I have any idea in which direction you intend to launch. Only that wild hair tickling your butt and some fanciful flight -- only they know which way you’ll go when you finally launch yourself
But launch you do. 0 – 60 covered in but seconds. By the time your rear paws have leapt past your front paws … by that first bounding progress you’re up to speed, effortlessly covering
Feet
Yards
Acres
Miles
With reach and drive and precision, four paws leave but two prints. The back paws land in the front paw’s print with target sure accuracy.
Your feet dig in with such purchase I could almost believe this illusion: Your powerful legs are driving the Earth's rotation.
Suddenly I see it. It’s no longer you gliding across the surface. Instead, the Earth is a wheel beneath you. And it is your powerful paws digging in, keeping all in spin
.
The backyard is too small for you. Fences alter your course. You turn. Your circles barely clear the chain link but you take in the whole of it. Lap after lap. Figure eight after figure eight. Your butt bunches. Your back is cocked. It explodes with each bound…
…then just as suddenly your back is arched. Your airborne front paws are above your head. Your airborne rear legs are fully extended behind.
You are flying.
And now…
In the freeze frame that is my mind’s eye I can see you there. Coiled. Your four big strong paws spread wide across the ground. A low center of gravity. A stable pad from which to lift off.
5....4....3....2.....
Potential about to become kinetic. Ready to spring. Mischief in your eye.
But now the crouching posture and wild-eyed look says you’re grabbing the Earth. Hanging on for dear life. As though the world is spinning out of control. You widen your stance. Dig in for stability.
Neither you nor I have any idea in which direction you intend to launch. Only that wild hair tickling your butt and some fanciful flight -- only they know which way you’ll go when you finally launch yourself.
But launch you still do. Mostly forward now. Not bounding. Your mind is still young and mischief still there. We have outlived our bodies, you and I.
The circles are smaller and fewer now. The fences aren’t in the way. The fences don’t even come into play. But some day. Some future day we will leap them.
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