A cyclist has spread to the breeze
Her CCC jersey, and heads for open roads.
She is an object of beauty and strength
As we stand and watch her, until at length
Like a wind, she is lost from our view
Where sky and horizon mingle in fading hue.
At that moment, someone cries with regret,
"There! She's gone!" "Gone where?" I ask.
She has only left our sight. Even now
In frame and gears and wheels from front to rear
She is just as reliable as when by our side
She stood, waiting for the first pedal stroke."
Her diminished size is in me, not her;
For, just at the moment we would infer
"There! She's gone!"- voices from that other Home
Are taking up the glad shout, "There! She comes!"
With God the sunset on our western horizon
Is sunrise beyond; a New Day begun.
We too must rejoice and not be sighing!
It's a glad adventure that - dying!
- Floyd B. Allen and Martha L. Jack