The Circus Life

I’ve been walking on a tight rope.
From beginning to end,
keeping it steady.
The wind has blown.
The tension lowered and risen.
I’ve tread carefully.
I was never ready.
But then, never had a choice.
It was either tip-toe,
or enjoy one last summer breeze
on the way down.
Feel the wind rushing against my face,
watching the sky run away,
and the ground waiting for my embrace.

I had a gale push me,
knocked the wind out of me,
and now my hands hold tightly.
A rope losing its tension.
I tell myself to not look down.
Thinking that it’s not time to hug the ground.
Not yet.

How do you climb back?
Is it worth it?
To choose between being a bird for a minute,
or going back to balancing acts.

The circus life.

Look at it.
This long rope
extending from point A

and a point B no one can ever see.
We have to walk it
without a safety net.

It’s a good thing I like the sky close.
I can extend my hand
and let my fingers run through a cloud.
I can shape it.
Or, at least, make people think
it looks like something they recognize.

“Is it a dog?”
People will ask.
“Is it a man?”
“Is it a plane?”

Does it matter?
What matters
is that we are this high up.
Some of us running our hands through clouds,
trying to come up with figures
that tell our story.
While others decided
to be a bird for a minute–
To feel the summer breeze one last time,
and watch our spectacles
while hugging the ground.

By Chris Fernández

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