All of us are precariously sane.
We walk a fine line high upon a tight
Rope over madness, stepping out
Daily on drawn-out hopes that doubt
Tugs and on which much thought puts too much strain.
Life is the art of getting things just right.

Don’t lose your balance or you will go mad.
Each step must be precise, aware of risks,
The body tense, the mind at ease,
Self-centred and yet born to please,
Since life is funny and profoundly sad,
Great spirits stooping to the smallest tasks.

Along the way, our nature must express
Emotions freely, do a pirouette
Or somersault and land feet first
Back on the wire, all unrehearsed.
If, at the end, our efforts meet success,
Our fellow clowns may chance to notice it.

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Current edit:

29 August 2015