This Circus

Many walk the tightrope, and hope there hides a net somewhere,
miles below, resting under the fog. Others expect nothing more
than an end, and walk without care for the crash.

Yet both of these acrobats, in the absence of balance,
in the face of the fall, find their first instinct
is to clutch at the rope. They reach, unthinking.

That tells me something
about the nature of existence. Our bodies know:
It is worth the stay.
The end of the show will always be there another day.