• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 06

Pink Panther

Philippe Petit drew a string from one end of earth to another.
Then he risked it all.
To look down would leave him with nothing.
Worse, it would take down hope,
from the millions who look above, for little mercies.
The New Yorker once profiled him: 'The wire is life', he said.
'All else is waiting...'

This is about the all else, the waiting.
No strings attached,
just the sheer drop from here to eternity,
in a matter of seconds.

But what grace. To stay on top, with the calm
of a mermaid in Copenhagen,
perched above, made to wait for dawn
before beginning afresh.

Look how she looks down,
at the tremors below,
at our little heartaches, in our little houses,
when the beast is fast asleep, still a few more hours
before it springs to life, on the street, inside the stock market,
with its bustle and the manic bull runs

But for a moment, the sun too takes a pause,
and wonders, with her, what makes the buildings
stay where they are

and what makes us, all, all bones and spirit,
move, a moment at a time, without any
thought of eternity.

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