Transparent Words - Poetry


To Norberto Hernandez

by Barbara Phillips

            Norberto, four days before life lost you,you asked your mother
            to play 'I would Cry But I Have No More Tears' four times.
            On the train to the World Trade Center,perhaps you searched for peace within
            knowing in not knowing the world was spinning into shadowed cataclysms
            between light and darkness where fear taunts courage in bone wrought
            sinews before you went to be what you were,pastry chef at Windows
            On The World, on the 107th floor,where panoramas dressed mirages
            just beneath the hands of dream saturated skies

            When madness came costumed in smoked flames, you called your sister
             to say you were fine, and some minutes later you chose to jump into
             the pure void that turned your form of 6' 2", 205 pounds into graceful
             mimetic motion which I watched on CNN and asked myself whether
             you chose such flight to lose yourself in creation before the final exodus
             came when you would become a martyr in the memories of a world
             paralysed by words too insubstantial for voices that cry within witnesses
             too far from where you are,yet too close to where you were

             Norberto, you who were nicknamed Bible for your trustworthiness
             know you will be with us forever, and you will remain true to your
             favorite saying - "Together Forever"- in a way no one could have imagined.
            You always said rather than die in a burning building, you would jump
             and you leaped into all our sorrows where you have become more
             than the man in the white coat whose fall was recorded live so all
             nations cannot forget we are one under a skin stretched too thin
             for love trapped by fires beyond boundaries besieged by our desires.

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