While we two watched from a ticket line,
the pride of Ferris turned 'round and 'round.
Its patrons, to me, seemed so like my life--
no sooner up, then sweeping down.
I thought at first to pass it by,
but for the tugging at my sleeve
and meeting with her big brown eyes
when she asked, "Daddy, can we please
take just one ride and from the top
see all the lights of town?"
Such sights impelled my knees to quake
and caused my heart to pound.

But ride we did, and once aboard
I asked myself, why not?
How often can it really be
that one gets stuck at the Ferris top?
So, there I was, a palid patron,
seated so opposite my child;
the longer it took them to bring us down,
the broader it seemed she smiled.
And then suddenly it occurred to me,
with a surprise I will long recall:
How can my life maintain such height
while I am afraid to fall?