Setter

Once my dream was to leap up high,

My bow bending,

Letting my arrow fly.

To be a hitter,

In her glory

But once I realized,

I could not hear,

The double smack of the ball to my hand,

Could not feel,

The fierce burning of my palm,

See the ball shooting down and down,

Spiraling swiftly.

Though unaware,

Of plight at first,

I never once had despair.

For I found my talents,

Were hidden,

Waiting to emerge elsewhere.

Though at first unnoticed,

It soon became clear,

The ball was never meant to fly from my hands.

Instead,

I should cradle it softly;

Cushion its fall with gentle fingers,

Just inches from my eyes.

Bring it up carefully;

My elbows supple and bent.

Then send it snapping,

Up and up in a graceful arc above;

To be in perfect position for she who

I used to envy-

To set it up for my former dream.

So she can

Leap up high,

See her arrow fly;

Feel the double smack,

The fierce burning of her palm.

But, I?

I will be the setter;

Strong and proud

Yet so gentle, so careful.

I now seek the second hit.

And

If you, too,

Have dreams that fly

Away,

Do not fear.

Like me, you might just find

Your talents lie elsewhere.

Never give up

On something you love,

But know that it does prove true:

There will always be

A hidden gift,

Waiting

Especially for you.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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