Learning to Ride My Bike

Lord,

I caught a glimpse of you
as I drove through the tree tunnel
on my way home.

I was about eight years old,
with black hair in pig tails
wearing a light summer dress
and a yellow cardigan,
perched, white-faced,
on a big two wheeler bike.

You were running along behind me,
hand lightly gripping the saddle,
ready to steady me should I start to topple,
ready to let go when I would be confident enough.
You were so serious as you ran,
determined that no harm should come to me!

And as I watched the two of us,
I just had this sense
that this is how you are helping me to sing
all on my own.

I was overwhelmed.

(c) Claire Murray