Next thing I know, I’m looking at the sky
My bicycle in pieces far away
Flesh torn, the blood is streaming from my thigh
Atypically, my mind begins to pray.
Forgotten are all thoughts of speeding truck
No pain, no anxious worry in my head
No trace of irony, I praise my luck:
“Now I will know what it’s like to be dead!”
No sooner does this thought articulate,
I think of “miles to go before I sleep”
As sure as life itself, it is my fate
To climb along this path, however steep
The days ahead will offer difficult
New challenges, occasions to exult.