Walking the Line

This, this is the line that you walk alone, you tell yourself.

You're standing on a cliff, but you feel as though you are out at sea, fighting against the tide. Like driftwood being swept out to sea.

There's a bridge across this vast gash in the earth. The crowds all seem to float across and you hear their voices blending together in the morning air... The lights sparkle brightly along the wide path.

 Some call out to you, familiar voices in a sea of mist. Their words pull on you like cords, but you resist. Where they flock you cannot follow. You have been chosen to take a different road. This is the line that you walk alone. 

You can't see their faces, their hats pulled low, casting their faces in shadow... You reach up to your own head, but you have no hat. Your hair whips in the wind and your face is bare. The light of the sun relfects off your face and sets your eyes aglow.

You turn to face the sun and then you see it through the mist... the line. 

Wire stretches into nothingness. As you stare, the voices of the crowds fade away, and you stand alone as the sun rises. Alone, but for the figure, wavering through the mist, one who has walked the line before you.

He reaches out his hand and you're not afraid, you're not afraid, you're not afraid. 

You step out. The wire shudders; you feel energy rippling through the heavy twisted metal, you hear the faint creaking. But you don't pull back, drawn to the light by the face on the other side. 

Both feet on the wire. The wind sweeps through and sways you and the wire quakes again and you waver, arms held out. Suddenly you're keenly aware of how far you could fall, of the vastness of the air filling the void below your feet. You look down, down, down and the wind grows louder, like a voice, and you actually begin to hear it whispering, then shouting, "Turn back, turn back, turn back..."

You crouch and clutch the wire and close your eyes and try to sort out the truth from the lies. You knew this was the line you were meant to walk. But suddenly it feels impossible. Cold waves of doubt overwhelm you until you're chilled to the bone. You've never walked a wire before. How dare you think that you could ever have a chance to--

A strong hand grips yours and pulls you to your feet. You look up into a smile so tender you never want to look away. Just like that, warmth floods you. Defeated, the wind screams into a low whine in the background.

If this were the sea, you just got your feet on the rock. Now you know you'll stand your ground. Despite the currents swirling around you, your feet are firm again. 

Realization comes. This is not a line that you walk alone. No, you follow in the footsteps of an expert. He seems to glide into the misty cloud where the wire stretches into the unknown. Taking a deep breath, you follow. One foot after the other. One breath after another. And oh, how clear the air is up here! Danger shivers through your veins, but you keep you gaze fixed on the one you can see beckoning to you through the mist. How alive your heart beats within you, how alive you are. 

Just before you step into the cloud that hovers up here so high, you feel the wire vibrate behind you. You glance over your shoulder, and you smile. Someone else has stepped onto the narrow line. They hesitate, losing their balance, clutching the line for dear life, as you did. 

And you hold out your hand, to lift them up, as you were lifted up. "Hey," you say. "You're not alone."