As Was My Habit- A Warning

Face plants on the pavement

Are not so bad, when you're young.

I remember...

My mom would get a warm washcloth and clean me up,

A little mercurochrome, a bandaid or two would do.

The pesky spirits of tripping and slipping

Often take a much greater toll

On my well-matured features.

Tis the season of hats and mittens;

Of walking with arms outstretched,

hoping to balance on the ice.

Remember, it's not a good time to be in a hurry,

Pledging,

"I'm not going to fall underneath my car this year!"

I've been told that words don't matter, they're only words.

But in that split second of terror, as I'm watching the ground get closer,

What are the words flying out?

Twas my habit, then, on the way down-glasses flying,

I called out to You, "O God, O God!"

And Your love broke my fall.

Like gentle hands under my cheek,

Lowering me down, providing for my care.

Just as You always do, when I call out to You.

For Sally.