The Juggler

In a flurry of motion, a spectacle unfolds

As seven balls dance with precision and grace

An artist of the air, a master of control

Swapping and twirling, in a mesmerizing embrace

The gap between trajectory and pace

A delicate balance, a moment of hesitation

The arc of descent, a dance in space

Where timing is key, a feat of concentration

Rehearsing alone, rehearsing being alone

A solitary pursuit, a quest for perfection

Searching for sense in the chaos of motion

A rhythmic flow, a seamless connection

What holds when there is no break from motion?

What holds when there is no break from emotion?

The gravity of the task, the weight of the art

The artist makes magic, with skill and devotion

But in a blink of an eye, a twist of fate

The balls are dropped, the spell is broken

The audience gasps, holding their breath

As the artist regains composure, words unspoken

They have yet to stop holding their breath

As the artist picks up the pieces, with a steady hand

A lesson in resilience, a lesson in grace

As the show goes on, a testament to the power of pace. ("The Juggler") by Courtney Weaver Jr.