flying

Like a clown being shot out of the cannon at the circus

Fighting the accelerating trajectory was worthless

She could only hope it would all end with a soft easy landing

mixed with a large measure of compassion and understanding

And the clicking of the knitting needles echoed in her ear

 The ticking of the clock made her know the time was near

And the snowman in her window rocked back and forth

In the warm sunlight while a storm brewed in the North

The ringmaster signaled with a nod for the drum roll to start

The crowd grew perfectly quiet, she felt their silence in her heart

 fireworks exploded with a loud blast and she rose towards the sky

Then as she soared above the tent, she knew at last what it was to fly

Landing in a broken jumble, totally missing the net meant to catch her

Trying to move brought pain and agony as her vision began to blur

Clutching the grass, feeling the earth spin as light and sound became one

Hearing screams that might be hers, just a fallen hero lying in the sun

She heard footsteps running toward her and voices calling her name

Unable to answer, unable to move she felt only peace, no guilt, no shame

The last thing she remembered was being lifted and carried away

And again, she felt as if she was flying, this time though a gentle sway

Now she never escapes, walking slowly, carefully one step at a time

Hoping to find another way to fly, searching for the perfect rhyme

That will match the beat of her heart and the rise and fall of her breath

And guide her footsteps to follow the way to find the perfect path.

And the clicking of the knitting needles echoed in her ear

 The ticking of the clock made her know the time was near

And the snowman in her window rocked back and forth

In the warm sunlight while a storm brewed in the North