Poem

Biographies

They are born near page one
where they begin to collect the bits of providence
that shapes and carves from clay; men

scoundrels, leaders; the mighty and the misfortunate
some plan vain things, others
kiss the Son

We hold their lives in our hands
turn over the moments that made them
wishing for ourselves, so much more
to be like these sainted lives

Hagiography is our weakness
but I want the truth, warts and all
to determine the measure of all men, in all ages
this is our challenge

To see the secret thoughts of men long dead
to speculate on how and why
to see them in the deep valley of the soul
and assail the mountain of immortality

I love to sit comfortably in my armchair
and judge
and live vicariously

I often dream of posterity
pouring over my own journals
deciphering my intentions
deciding my worth

But above all
after the jaunt through history
I love to sit at the deathbed
of men long asleep in Abraham’s breast
and listen to their last words
and ponder the numbering of days