A tightrope walk from Dèr Mouw - physics and metaphysics all in one!

Your muscles, tendons, bones, joints, nerves did squirm

where falsely from distress’ deep abyss

madness observes the fall that is half-wished,

but by the short hairs I had you quite firm;

said: ‘What? You cannot? Or – you’ve lost your nerve?

Don’t Plato’s glaciers shame you so you quake?

Walk on! A granite highroad shall I make

the wire!’ You toed with grace along the curve.

When vertigo sucked down like some black hole,

I gave you infinite series for a pole,

e, π, Maclaurin, or binomium:

Niagara, beneath the plank-bridge sway,

the world-course thundered downwards plumed with spray –

I gave you, Blondin, the equilibrium.