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Poem

Still living my glorious moments,
holding on the memories of a past life,
relived by me on a lonely night
when aloness invites me to dance;
before all was a different image:
two bodies delighting in fond embrace,
ignoring the envious eyes of other dancers
who were true rivals, not friends... 
 

Neither sadness nor forgetfulness
can discourage me or keep me from
living my glorious moments, 
and these are perpetually untold;
others seem too desperate to release
them from the depth of their secret, to become
another story avidly read
by the affluent people who love to gossip...     

 
Everything that I've done in each stage  
is instantly taken to my earthly grave;
people assume the role of judges,
who condemn me with their insensibility,
but won't allow compassion and sympathy:
and they defend their faults that aren't so pretty,
when they are harshly rebuked by conscience
which rewards them with bitter rage...       


Still living my glorious moments, 
elated by a joy no human has ever known:
something inspired by that limitless grace,
which will comfort and strengthen this weakling body
when death suddenly shows up at my door;
and with the Lord's smile and the angels' song,
and tranquility surrounding me, 
I'll give up my breath and let Heaven be my final home...  

Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci

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