I’m in that dream again…
Art - Marc Chagall, L'Acrobate ou Le Trapèze, 1937-38
I’m in that dream again…
on a swinging trapeze,
high above the center ring,
momentum hurtling me
into a double-twist,
when time begins to slip,
till I’m suspended in the midst of a flip…
My gyrations slow
until my motions freeze,
so I have extra moments
to assess the floating scene,
as the actors play their roles
underneath the big top stripes,
there inside the circus of my mind.
I can see the Ringmaster
confidently beaming!
Seemingly at ease and in control
completely,
but I perceive he wonders,
does his audience recognize
the fraud he feels himself to be sometimes?
A happy little band
plays slightly to the side,
laying down our soundtrack
in 4/4 time.
The spotlight doesn’t find them
but there must be times
when they’d like to be seen, and recognized.
The patrons catch my eye
as they gaze up my way,
breath detained
and their necks painfully craned.
Parents and kids
gasp in unabashed glee
at the risks they get to live, vicariously.
The tightrope walker
whirls a bone china bowl
at the end of a pole
on the tip of his nose.
He nods to me to say,
“We’re a world of our own…
next to each other, but also alone.”
Clowns distract the crowd
from life outside the tent.
And they hold their own pain
right behind the paint.
Laughter is a mask
to help their damage heal;
underneath the powder, their grief is real.
Tail-in-trunk,
the elephants take their places
for the Saturday matinee pachyderm parade.
A jaded charade
made for our entertainment;
expectations tamed away
their Wild remnant.
Then the dream transmutes,
(like quite a few do)
and I’m feeding lichen
to a herd of caribou.
A Cheshire Cat moon
illumes the latitude,
and I’m suffused with lasting gratitude.
A small wishing star
flies brightly by,
and says,
“We’re all a circus inside;
we put on a show
then before you know
we’re a faded poster on a telephone pole.”
Then the dream is over
and I bolt up awake!
I wake the same way
each time and say,
“Please open my mind
to what I’m trying to teach.”
You see, every character in the dream is me.
Ringmaster, audience,
clowns band caribou
ropewalker, elephants,
Cheshire Cat moon,
the wishing star too,
and me on trapeze,
especially the man who’s there to catch me!
Each of them visits
to offer me wisdom
while I’m on the dream trapeze,
suspended in mid-flip.
How I wish I knew
when I let go of the bar…
do I choose to catch me, or let me fall?
Lee DeNoya - Atlanta, February 2023