Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Poem: The Circus




Four score and bonuses:
raise the tents, cue the music,
bring up the lights,
find your spot, and climb.

We have twenty years
to find our balance;
to gather information,
perfect our skills,
decide and become.

Twenty more to
run into the wind,
full throttle, unstoppable,
with strong arms and clear eyes.
Our reflexes perfect,
our confidence supreme.
.
We walk the high wire
take on lions, and
fly without a net.
We may even begin to
imagine a top-hat and tails.

However, at some point
in the third sequence
the gatekeeper begins
collecting tickets;
  a twinge in the back,
    a twice torn knee,
missed catches, hard landings,
genetic betrayals.
.
We hardly notice the rope
beginning to fray.

Twenty, twenty, twenty, twenty.
Each circuit has its own
strengths and weaknesses,
gains, losses and lessons;
each its price and prizes.

Eventually we step out of the spotlight;
we learn how to listen;
we instruct and encourage,
we watch, walk and water the elephants.

In the end, if we have been
true to our inner lights,
we may have the honor of
lifting some of the very young
out of harm's way.
































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