some days i doubt for all of us in the troupe
walking up there on the tightrope
i wonder what on earth might
have brought us to such treacherous heights
following an escape route we fought to untap
now we can’t get down. trapped on the trap
locked in that precarious aerial fight
against gravity itself, to stay aflight

and other days, i can see without even having to gaze
there’s something down there, below the haze
there’s something to catch us if we fall
and then suddenly the fear isn’t so big at all
and even falling doesn’t feel so tragic

…those are the days even falling is just part of the magic.