Trees of Leaves and Grass
A miracle of nature about to unfold,
a most amazing transformation of
the fetus and the egg,
one of the greatest stories told,
a procreating journey's first and
from pregnancy to giving birth,
a chrysalis of nature and creation,
the family name not left to beg,
chromosomes and genetic traces,
a timed cycle,
a physiological event embraces,
from birth's inclusion to death's
exclusion, a fact of life.
Everyone is born one day.
Everyone will die some day.
But, with death, another miracle
And, life goes on.
A dawn of hope.
A brand-new day.
Opportunity to make one's mark,
and leave a legendary legacy.
And, yes, it is better to love,
than never to be loved at all.
Like mercy, the quality of love is
It's Time For My Closeup, Mr. DeMille
I would be most honored to attend your wonderful play!
And, like Billy Bigelow, I will be on a carousel polishing
the stars, dancing on moonbeams, down on my heels
and up on my toes, singing like a songbird in soprano,
tenor and baritone, wearing ruby-red tap shoes, making
the Wizard, Judy, and June receive an SRO, standing
ovation's thunderous applause--and glittering spit-shine.
Quiting the "day job," displaying the body electric, the
timing, the beat and the rhythm--and the talent we own.
Good News! Yes, I'll attend your wonderful play in New
York. Yes, even on Pluto, on Jupiter and Mars. 'Cause
guess what? The pleasure is the audiences, all yours,
and all ours. Your name on the theater marquee. In the
spotlights, before the cameras, in front of the footlights,
in high-stepping shoes that Cinderella and a gay man
will fill. The curtain rises, the excitement mounts, your
face and name's made Variety. You're even on Playbill.
Polishing the Stars
Dedicated to Harry
and Tonto, Lenny
At the time of grief,
one wonders: Will
I ever see my loved
At the time of one's
own passing: Will I
remember the depth
and range of my love?
What really happens
at the time of death?
How does one feel?
What really happens
No concrete evidence,
No definite answers,
nothing to hold onto,
but faith and hope.
Yet, one can turn
treasures out of
And, one can turn
the old into new.
There is a season.
A time to live.
A time to die.
But, before life is
over, a precious
traveler over time
takes us on an
Life goes on.
of our story.
Before life's portal
door is shut.
We may not have
tomorrow, but we
can learn from
make right now
a brighter, gainful
Knowing that we
never really walk