The Finish Line

You were so small

Hand wrapped around my index finger

My joy exploded like an over filled balloon

When your first steps came

As the years have come and gone

Like weather on the swing

I have watched you my son

Drawing closer to the finish line

In that town with no court house 

My joy explodes within me

And my mind rises up like

a song

You move

A prince of the air

Your feet your own

A stride like an Aztec

From my wheel chair

I love to watch you

RUN!