When the rug was pulled from under
me, I remained suspended in the air
like a comic strip character - quite
unaware that beneath me was
nothing - but emptiness
When I realized what had happened,
I succumbed to the power of gravity-
ice-cold and careless - crashing to
the earth in bone-shattering
pain
Then I remembered someone said reality
is only the mat from which trapeze artists
jump to take flight – so I put all my power
into my jump upwards- like a Jack-In-
The-Box
Only a faint memory of pain stirring every
now and again - I use the pain to press
down harder - so as to make my jump
from reality
Higher than before…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem