Icicle Bicycle, Pocket Poem #9

Credit JGBrooks

Brightly gleaming ice falls lining
the cliffs on this morning’s ride.
Glistening, fresh, freezing wind whipping.
I am alive. I am alive. I am alive!

Invigorated and absorbed,
Seven doesn’t skip a stroke,
we move mightily and meticulously
as the road continues to slope.

Upward we ramble,
twisting tenaciously through the trees,
hearing ice crack, frozen bubbles bang,
as the forest frostily breathes.

I am awake and entranced,
attuned to all that surrounds,
ebullient and embraced
by the beauty that abounds.

I am alive, I am alive, I am alive,
and, I am grateful,
for a body, and this bike, and the gift
to touch what’s praiseful.

On our return, with the warmth,
my cadence begins to slow.
Water drips lightly, lazily,
the falls now trying to flow.

Icicles on branches shrink a bit
with the sun.
It’s a new day, a new year,
a new cycle has begun.

Happy New Year, my sacred friends! May your paths be smooth, your hearts warmed, your days joy-filled, and your senses sharpened to grace revealed!

Pedal on!