The Heart of Imagination
On sudden impulse, his impairment is anguish
as the deaf boy tries to speak
while communicating with signs;
although his body is strong hopelessness weakens his flesh,
all the words he stutters are wasted thoughts that don't thrive,
and with much struggle they get weak...
wouldn't he be the happiest boy alive:
if he could speak as other kids, wouldn't he be like everyone else?
I saw him looking at fleeing clouds,
such are his days wasted on a life that won't let him dream,
not hoping for little joys but for sorrows...
tears roll down his big hazel eyes not losing their gleam,
while waiting for a good soul to comfort him with words;
shouldn't I be that one to offer him what he seeks?
He sees my shadow drifting on the sidewalk
and a merry smile appears on his dimpled cheeks,
at least, someone sits down and listens without a need to talk!
On the entrance of Saint Mary's church,
a statue of the resurrected Christ stands...
he asks me what's his name..." Jesus " I reply with with contentment,
" Listen, child...he cured the death, the blind and the lame,
but evil people had him crucified as a criminal for a crime he did not commit! "
" Please, tell me more about this kind man who had no blame! "
He got up and took my hand making hand gestures to lead me inside
and turning to me with brightness on his adolescent face he cried,
" What does it take for a miracle to happen? True faith and lots of prayers? "
I nodded and speaking fervently, " The courage and faith of an innocent child
that led me to enter and glorify Him in the holiest of places! "
" You have two friends now and found a place where God and angels abide! "
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014
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