Cliff Ballet

The beats of life are undeniably beautiful,
But treacherous by the same measure,
Like performing ballet on a cliff edge,
A knife blade,
A ciseaux through the years,
From the first position to a precarious cabriole,
All smiles while waltzing upon pointy stones,
It is a radiant performance,
Worthy of a standing ovation,
But all take bets on which foot will slip first,

This chalk stage of existence,
It’s a steep cliff face,
One we all ply our trade upon,
What lies below doesn’t bear thinking about,
Waves and scythes,
Dashing rocks and terminal coral,
It’s built upon limestone and inevitability,
In this great dance of life,
Even a prima ballerina tires,
We all slip eventually.

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