Each faltering step, each fall of mine, Makes you burst out into laughter: Because I am the clown in the pack Because the motley is my birthmark. Each swing of leotards on trapezes Sighs in comic relief in the tail of my coat: Because the show must go on Because the Master is watching it. Watching it is His way Of creating and preserving; Watching it is your way Of playing for a while The game within the game; On a spiralling ladder Of intertwining Venn diagrams; With no place determinate For the clown in motley: Because the show must go on Note : I wrote this poem almost two decades ago. Both the show and the clown have changed quite a bit, and they go on entertaining those concerned in their own ways.
Cerebrate and Celebrate