The Unconditional Giver

Seeing you reclining in your easy chair,

I rush to you and climb on your feet.

I take hold of your hands which come extended

the moment I position myself on your feet thus

and balance myself comfortably there.

Standing on your feet looking straight into your eyes,

I giggle when you lift me up, raising your feet.

You lift your feet and lower them alternatively,

making me go up and down in the air,

holding on tightly to my little fingers

and never letting go the pedals

that are your feet from beneath mine.

You called this an act of cycling

for what reason I know not,

but I nevertheless enjoyed the rides.

You never owned any vehicle.

You never drove me anywhere.

The cycling we had while you could still afford to

lift me up on your feet was all we had.

Yet we have cycled far and more than

any other father and daughter have.

We have had such joy and fulfillment

that it continues to energize me

now that you are no longer there.

I learnt the first lessons of giving from you;

the unconditional giver you always were,

whether of time and things.

You never grumbled or grudged what you gave.

You were ever ready with your palms open and extended.

Picture courtesy: http://creativewriting.ie/2012/05/18/creative-writing-ink-picture-prompt/