Trapeze

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I stopped for a Barman on the sand, resting - a philosophical kind. He debated happiness, dis-ease and The Questioning Mind.

"Are you happy now?" I put my maps down, we drank; watched a couple tie a thin red line between two coconut trees, elasticized and weighted at each end. "Have you ever walked the Trapeze, my friend?" and the Boy stepped up onto the heat of the wire, an artist, his arms surfing the bounce from above. "Yes, of course..." he said, "...but only when I'm in love! Pointless to think of your feet - you must put your soul over there - and go toward it..."

The Girl fell. Again and again she hit the ground. Was her thinking wrong, the red road too long, her strong mind not on the other tree, too often looking down? "She's not in love, but it can be found in the instant she is equal to the stars; the stars and tree will talk - and, like you, she will walk when she doesn't want to be here anymore." I guess he meant love is written in the stars, something like that; I wrapped my maps in a scarf.

We smiled, watched the couple untie the thin red line, watched how they strolled a while hand in hand, down to sunset. Happiness? Of all my footsteps, I'm just so glad we met.