A grassy, steep slope helps me exercise
not just my muscles but my soul as well,
for I imagine You, unseen by eyes,
as if you pulled me up from death and hell.
The bottom of the hill becomes the grave
from which You pull me by my outstretched hand,
while I am grateful for the life You gave
to me while climbing up the steep-sloped land.
Then I go down and go back up again,
repeating this each time with new emotion,
rehearsing for the future moment, when,
I pray, that You will pull me into motion.
Imagination will, I hope, turn real.
Till then, I can rehearse how it would feel.
Mario A. Pita