Sacred Preparation

“O God, I pray for the willingness to accept the prosperity in my life.”
The rest area had a playground.
Sun eased in sideways along my shoulders.
I couldn’t have walked any slower to tomorrow.
How long would I linger here, I wondered, as tears fell over a quiet smile?
I swung my small frame around a monkey bar, righting myself with the bar at my hips, arms straight, fingers gripping tight, in front of pelvic bones.
From this familiar perch I stared at nothing swaying in the breeze that sent young spring leaves to dancing.
Once feet landed on earth, in circles and circles I danced to dizziness. I was 8 and 18, 23 and 26 all at once, alone. No single thought could be heard through the slide show of my life. Arms stretched straight out until I let them drop, hands flopping on thighs.
I made my way to a tire swing, sat limp, one foot hanging down, a pivot as I rocked back and forth, never around, head resting on chain links.
Across mulch and grass, over cement walks, past restrooms and vending machines, I found my silver 86 Ford Escort.
Back on the road, listening to the hum of swiftly rolling tires, sunlight tickling my face, drying tears, I was ready for my wedding day.