A Man of the Tightrope

from the book "A Man of the Tightrope"

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On first sight,

I loved the painting.

A man on the tightrope with a balancing pole.

He was up there not to perform,

he seems was forced shakily standing there,

an albatross to learn how to balance his life.

 

I got the painting,

hung it in my family room.

I looked at him in the morning

and came home at night.

 

It reminded me, one misstep, life ruined.

 

I moved the painting to my office.

I liked to think he inspired me not to be

afraid of walking on the tightrope.

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Years, decades,

after stumbling and out of balance many times,

I began to wonder,

how did he learn his trade.

 

That was the time he began to speak to me:

how he chose the pole,

the length, the weight;

and the cable;

how his hands, fingers gripped the pole;

drifted, swayed in the wind;

how his toes nailed the wire;

where his eyes were staring at;

his ears, listening to;

how his mind paused and pulsed,

left, right, up and down.

 

He told me,

he was not trained as a tightrope walker,

but he took it to learn how to face fears,

defy danger,

adapt to the obstacles;

and how to balance the body and mind...

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His voices spoke volumes when I was broke,

knocked down on the floor.

 

This morning, I went into office,

the painting was down on the ground,

the wire hanging the painting broke,

the man, on the floor.

 

I left him there.

Glass shattered;

his voice shattered;

doom finally came?

 

Didn’t he learn how to fall?

I did not hear his voice.

 

Still, he holds onto his pole.

 

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