Rope Speaks!
I am the servant of man. I am the life line. My greatest joy is in sweet human functions. I am one with the old oaken bucket.
I am a friend to the children of the world; their happy feet jump tirelessly over me. I am the swing in which they dream their dreams. I ring the curfew which cuts off day's activities.
I scorn not holier uses. I am the clothes line: the wind and I flaunt banners of cleanly garments. I am the hammock rope. I poise securely the window weights.
I love my part in Sunday's services. I enable the bell to peal out over a quiescent and careless world it's inviting call to worship. I thrill with the music of the chimes.
I have no small part in some of history's tremendous moments. Through my pulsating length ran the force which rang the Liberty Bell. I sometimes thrill with pride and patriotism. I maintain aloft the starry flag, "living and dying momently in the breeze."
I am, next to the horse, the best beloved of the cowboy. I am the lasso. I hurtle unerringly to the mark. In skillful hands, I live, dance, and sing.
I am the trusted line upon which the tight-rope dancer pirouettes across the circus tent, or the chasm of Niagara. The daring feats of the trapeze performer are as much dependent upon me as his own sure eye and firm hold.
I am an important factor in man's adventuring through open spaces. My staunch strength holds his tent in place. I stay his reluctant canoe.
I am the tried friend of man on dizzy mountain heights. I have borne many perilous strains. I am the safety of the pioneer and the explorer. I am no less reliable when winds wrack the tortured merchant vessel and it's sails groan in protest.
I operate the derrick, hoist and pulley in mid air, as well as in the foundation pit. I have made the skyscraper possible. Who shall say that I did not strain and bind to lift upon Egypt's sand to achieve the pyramids?
I cry aloud that I have often been put to shameful uses. All down the ages, I have had to feel the stigma of those disgraceful words: "You shall be hanged by the neck till dead."
I was forced to bind Joan of Arc, Savanarola, and many another martyr of human liberty until cruel flames set their spirits free. Gladly I yeilded my body to be burned with them.
I AM A ROPE
-Dan F. Murphy
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