THE ACROBAT

A tightrope strung

Between two thoughts,

Composed, the acrobat

Stands on one leg,

Toes gripping the golden rope,

Arch and heel

Growing roots

Deep into the earth;

The other leg ready to stride

Into the abyss,

Secure and unflappable.

Everything perfect

Now.

 

Striped clothing and

A feathered cap

Comprise her ensemble,

Just the right degree,

For her performance,

Of levity and wit.

A passing bird tweets twice

In recognition,

Then pauses on a branch

To admire her poise.

 

Sweet kisses from the sun

Rain upon her brow,

Cradle the back of her neck,

Like a father’s hand.

Newborn she blinks

Returning without haste

To the center.

 

Perfect, perfect

Even in pain,

The joy remains untouchable

In its willingness to surrender.

Ten stories, a hundred stories

A million stories deep

She glides

Along the Net of Indra.

 

Picture: Kite Dancer, brush and ink on rice paper

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s