Years and years ago

I fell in love

not with a person

with a skill

that few still have

 

It wasn’t popular

though that is fleeting

It wasn’t to perform

though we did, sometimes

still, as skill grew, so did we

 

It was fun

it was a challenge

made the greater by

friendly competition

and a secret joy as we improved

 

It started with a small

and sharp pointed shaft

and a challenge to split an apple

or perhaps something larger

like a pumpkin or a water balloon

 

It wasn’t about being

the best or the first

It was about sharing

not a secret, but a dream

a fantasy, pretend heroes in action

 

practice for the people

we might become with

patience and quiet sharing

not of the bow, but of the

experience of becoming better people

 

As I grew older, those lessons

and the quiet joy of

doing something that few shared

never left, though I abandoned

the bow, shifting to other foci

 

Decades later I find I am

teaching new young people

the joys of the bow and the arrow

wistfully longing for those days

the excitement of hitting the target

 

So after decades, I made a return

in hopes of sharing more

with those who follow

bringing that secret joy to others --

I bought my own bow, once again