Push Me to the Sky

By Ron Woods

Her small hands grasp

the swing. Tight

in the excitement

of Saturday sailing,

she sings,

“Push me, daddy,

push me to the sky!”

Suddenly I’m caught in the stillness

of eternity framed,

my eyes moist.

She holds there,

caught against the sky—

and then returns.

With trembling hands,

I move her once again

into the air,

and as she falls into

my hands, again and again,

the vision takes hold.

I can push her to the sky!

Past the time when the links

of this chained seat

are rusted and gone,

two hands will

patiently catch her

home.

Will she look back

as she swings toward Him?

Will she frown and ask why,

or will she smile at the promise

of sailing another sky?

Photography by Eldon K. Linschoten