Sunday, February 22, 2009


i am a tightrope walker
balancing alone before the crowd
grin plastered on
feet precariously searching
for a place of rest
crowd smiles and cheers
i look for a moment to check
i cannot hear them
cannot see their faces anymore
the rope beneath me seems steady and strong
yet i cannot ignore the voice
the voice urging me to fall
after how far i've come?
my path to the rope was not easy
but i endured
i rose to the challenge
that i believed was mine
i made the climb
i saw others fall from the ladder
miss steps
fall to the ground
some rose, some left
to paths unknown to me
as i continued to climb
i knew my way was priveledged
i knew i was strong
no never.
cheers of the crowd are food to me
accolades that are undeserved
my pulse races
there is no net!
nothing to break my fall
i would be left
like others. like before.
left to crawl
to where? to what?
what lies outside the walls i've built?

the voice reassures me
'you will heal'
'you will make it'
but to what?
this rope, this balance i've made
i was sure it was the way
the path i was to take
but i can't see its end
my goal
is gone
do i press on?
do i fall?
fall to be broken
broken to be healed?
what will become of me
when i no longer walk this tightrope
can i trust the voice?
the voice calling me to fall
will i be able to lay aside pride
and fall?
can i trust the voice
that urges me so
and know that the voice will also be
the healer of the broken tightrope walker

and i will not have to crawl alone

*note - i wrote this several years ago and have posted it before.  it is feeling especially true once again.


Anonymous said...

Interesting..who gets credit for it? MOM

Jenna'sMommy said...

beautiful abby. i love you.

EmileeHopeBinkleyTurner said...

Wow, I didn't know you wrote poetry. That is really a beautiful piece!