Eleonora Cucca

A story written in poetry about a mysterious encounter followed by an unexpected realization.

The setting is the Millennium bridge in the night of New Year’s Eve.

Gelid, with anger and pain

the wind in delirium screams

scratchin’ the water, shaking the trees

Invisible, his laments are vain.

–

Tonight, no one cares about him.

The waiting is crackling fire.

The crowd is family warmth.

The last night is about to begin.

–

All of a sudden, in those fields far away

neon lights of the skyline take off

a sensational blooming of stars

and for an instant the night was a day.

–

Golden willows and palms

and lightnings cascades

fragments of the year that fades,

defeated by cannons and guns.

–

as splinters of light fell in the river

the wind himself shed a tear.

Just like him I knew I was there

for costume more than for pleasure

–

Eyes veiled,

deep inside asleep

yet normal in the quiet streets

was how I played.

–

Your arms on the bridge’s bars,

Were in the moment I saw you,

lost in a dream like a child

looking at the exploding stars

as if in love, with sparkling eyes.

–

And there, with no noise

a dart must have hit me.

of emotions drunk I see

I’m bleeding from the chest

I’m shivering with joy.

–

Oh, how I wished those eyes looked at me

as if I was one on the fires.

–

Epiphany in me

a spark of life like a thrill,

I could feel it in my head,

floating harmony

in my trembling hands.

–

My eyes were flooded with colors

as in a sudden realization

of where I was, Who I was

and I was there, my feet touched the ground.

I owned something nobody had.

–

So, looking for your gaze

again, I turned back

your cerulean gaze, black.

But I couldn’t see through

the thick wall of coats, blue.

Soon, I was lost in the haze.

–

You were gone

but God was there, I noticed

welcoming like a mother

shining of light of His own.

But how I wish I could know

if He was more distant or close.

–

The vault was empty now

Fireflies on the ceiling

and the eyes of the buildings

looked at me in my sorrow,

sinking

like a helpless family their child.

–

And so was my heart,

So happy

in the purest despair.

–

Did I just fall in love with the night?

Like in a trance, prey of a vision

tired,

Fatally wounded

finally dreaming.

Or was it an angel, an invisible knight?

Sent to bring me back from prison

to the joy of living

and suffering?

–

The magic I thought it was ended

as I was about to leave

after that strange, beautiful sight.

Yet I found myself with surprise

in the days after to believe

–

that the flowers indoors

a little longer

would last

as the sun shines

a little stronger,

would the snow on the grass

become lacy frost

and the fog would melt into ponds

like candy floss, at a fair

life would be sweeter.