Ode to my Bicycle

 Bless the bike,

its wheels, tires, chain & seat

on which i glide through city streets

            in between the cars & roaring trucks        

on Lincoln Ave;

Bless the tiny ball bearings,

the pedals, handles, gears all working in tandem

            with the clockwork of my legs

pushing circles:

left, right, left, right, left;

Praise the kiss of wind on my face,

bless the caress of wind in my hair

wind rushing through my clothes,

            wind pulling, pushing, air

brushing my whole body,

filling my nostrils,

            hitting my eyes,

Praise the way the bicycle

            embraces weight & masters gravity;

Praise the sensitivity of tires

on paved earth or grass,

the rickety jittering of my frame

            going over bumps & cracks;

            potholes shake my mind awake,

            bringing me back to earth;

            uphill stretches burn my calves

                                    as i breathe deeper, sweating,

                                    throwing every ounce of force i have

                        into the push:

                        left, right, left, right, left;

O bike, you are no robot i control

            from the inside,

but an extension of my very body

            into metal & rubber,

so, astride you, i thank God

            for my own blood & bones  

            which make me move –

                        my brain & lungs & flesh & guts

                        converting food & water i’ve consumed

            into ground covered,

            concrete distance over which i fly—

                        left, right, left, right, left;

No, bike, you are nothing like a car

that hides me from the world outside,

            & from which, through the windshield,

                        Things come & go as if on screen;

                                    no – on you i am exposed,

                                                naked and immersed

                                    in the water of the world,

                        i see, hear, smell, & feel it all:

            from the weather to the sewer,

                        from the indian food shops on Devon

                                    to the fishy smell of the river

                                    to the fountain’s spray in Fellgher park

                                                where little children play,

                        i hear the paletero’s bell,

                        the howling rumble of the L,

                        & here i feel myself a part

                        of city, breathing with the rest–

                        a little blood cell

                        rushing through Chicago’s veins,

                        pulsing with it’s heartbeat:

                        left, right, left, right, left –

           

On you, bike, i notice things like:

            a toddler rubbing noses with her mother

            on a bus stop bench,

            the sound of crickets

                        crossfading to traffic,

            streaks of yellow light from lampposts

            shining in the water,

            a single gatorade bottle

            on a dark, empty basketball court,

            a woman sleeping on a bench

            at Milwaukee & Diversey

            wearing a red hat,

                        leaning on a backpack;

            Naked bittersweet Truth & Beauty stand before me,

            revealed to my eyes & ears as these montages;

&, bike, on you,

            i engage with people & with Things,

            exchanging passing smiles with a stroller family,

            or, riding past a walnut tree

                        who extends a branch

                                    low into the street as if for a high-five,

                                    i am happy to oblige, reach up

                                    & slap some leaves as i go by

Yes, bless you, bike, in the open –  

            long-live the heartbeat of your ride

guiding feet in turning circles:

                        left, right, left, right, left;      

Bicycle, O little steed,

            Praise you! Always

            on your back

                        i am one with road

                        & landscape,

                                    embodied,

                        one with breath,

            with metal, seasons,

                        time,

            & all the billion People

            & all Things.