FLYING HIGH



I was a trapeze artist as a child,
flying high and feeling free.
I loved that wonderful feeling,
defying the odds, whatever they may be.
Where was another mountain to climb?
I grew up in the early seventies,
A female, that like to soar high.
The higher the mountain,
the higher I could fly.
Miss Best All-Around,
Miss Likely to succeed.
When the daredevil went to college,
What could she possibly be?
Where was another mountain to climb?
Law Enforcement fit the bill.
It was totally unacceptable at that time.
It was a high mountain
and I intended to shine.
I was flying high and feeling free.
Mastering a world that did not want me,
But eventually being shown admiration and respect.
Overcoming all the obstacles that was the key.
Where was another mountain to climb?
I went to Law School.
I thought nothing could stop me now.
I made it half way through,
before a careless teenager, with a foot of ,
backed over me in a parking lot,
and unfortunately, he broke my head.
Two  years of hard work 
and the highest mountain of my life.
And I was able to go back to work
And somewhat resume a regular life.
Where was another  mountain to climb?
I then started having uncontrolled seizures,
None of the medicines were able to help.
My employer no longer wanted me,
this feeling of failure I had never felt before.
The failure taught me about humility.
Acceptance taught me that it was not my failure.
I will  now always have a mountain to climb.
This mountain is very crowded,
There are many that  belong to my club.
We are all climbing mountains, 
But this mountain can teach us about self-love.
No matter how high the mountain,
Regardless of how dense the trail,
as long as we keep trying,
We donít ever really fail.

by: Debbie Wilson
    6-28-96