He works all he can doing odd jobs that bore him
Sweat beads like diamonds
His muscles sore
After a night of minimum wage pay
Collecting every cent and storing it away
Hidden in the oddest places
Returning to the one room he currently calls home
As the flies buzz in and out
With their daily 'hello's
And the fleas bite him
With their ritual 'goodnight's

'This is the good life..?' he sadly sighs

A vision swims. Clarifies itself in his mind
The stage, the spotlight burning his eyes
Tears forming from the dry air and emotion
Squinting, looking out into the sea of people
The mass of admirers

He shines

There in his moment of glory
Where his two worlds fuse together
And simultaneously breathe
The light caresses him, holding him gently
Shaping and molding its rays to fit his structure
Call it infatuation
As the earthly element falls in love
With this child of the calling

He glows

There with arms wide open
He smiles and finds himself whole
In the one place where he belongs
The crowd cheers after a performance well-done
And he takes his bow
They throw bravos and cries of praise
'This is the good life..' he whispers to himself

And then he awakens..

09/21/2000

Author's Note: Written for an old friend of mine, Luigi.

Posted on 11/14/2002
Copyright © 2024 Melissa Arel