The Clown on the Trapeze

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.