For Robert
This is science,
faithless ones will tell you,
using technical terms,
citing complicated physics
to describe the way a hardball
interacts with air,
clears the confines of a baseball field,
inherently dependent on what is soulless:
bat speed, horizontal velocity,
density of the atmosphere,
the upward angle,
gravity.
From the bleachers, #12,
it's a whole other ballgame,
a spontaneous wonder, contingent
upon the strength of your wish,
welling up from the deep fount
of your faith, lifted by fanfare,
carried by cheers, ascending
on the wing of a Little Leaguer's
Fenway stadium dream.
Technically, science, to those
who would use equations to tally
height, width, depth of glory,
to extract, examine the essence
of pure, undiluted joy, to measure
the immeasurable: the grand
in a grand slam.
To you, to me,
it's the time, the place
where God says, "Here,"
tosses you a dream
round, seamed,
equal in size to your
out-of-the-park belief.
Suzanne Gullotto is a new participant at poetry workshops led by poet and friend, Donna Hilbert. "Home Run Science" was written for Suzanne's son, Robert, who recently hit his first grand slam at Continental Little League, near their home in Cypress, California.
