Jack

My friend, named Jack, he lives on a hill.
He’s no Jack, like in Jack and Jill.
He’s unique, he’s one of a kind,
he’s cut from just one cloth, he’s of a singular mind.
Jack sees the world from a mile high, 5000 ft in the sky.
He asks questions until he’s blue in the face.
He sees the world differently than you and I.
 
He woke one day and found he was changed in every way.
He was transformed overnight into a man who’s not quite right.
His voice broke like never before as he tried to feel his feet touching the floor.
But his body said hold on tight, you’re on a new trip that starts tonight.
 
Jack doesn’t look for sympathy,
that’s not who he’s going to be.
He just wants to walk and smell the fresh air.
That hospital, that bed, he was determined to get out of there.
His life now a series of ‘new normal’ to get under his belt.
Power business trips, fighting the cold, hotel rooms alone, he won’t miss;
he’s too busy living, making the most of the cards he’s been dealt.

We all are injured in our own way.
Sometimes it goes quickly other times it just stays.
We’re all seeking to find our way
striving to fly and once again soar into the sky.
We spend our lives trying to cut that which holds us back.
Of course it’s harder for us, cause we’re not Jack.
 
Jack seeks us out, wants to know the thoughts in our mind.
He’s there when we need him or find ourselves in a bind.
He’s the anchor we need as we strive to make it right,
as our thoughts turn, drag us down in the dark of the night.
Jack plows through it all, he accepts who he now is.
He accepts his short fall, he reasons with firm belief.
Although not sound of body, he’s sound in mind.
No, he’s no victim, he’s no victim at all,
He’s nothing but inspiration to one and to all.
 
Jack loves the rodeo, it’s something to see.
He would be there every day, if such a thing could be.
If he had his dithers, he’d be a rodeo man,
tall, lanky, and confident with a Texas dark tan.
He’d love to ride a bronc, he’d love to wrestle a cow
but now, walking with a cane, he’ll not take that bow.
You’ll find him in the front row watching as they play.
It’s all he can do. In the front row he’ll stay.
​
Someone said they saw Jack several months ago.
He was traveling up north before the big snow,
traveling light, with his bass boat in tow.
Where the hell he was going, nobody would know.
He finds he is stronger out there in the wood.
He traded out his former life, one for him that wasn’t very good.
If we stop to think of Jack a moment each day
he’ll show us this life’s true path, a much better way.