Thomas Edison

- The Seasons Of Grief: Chapter IV - Poem IX -

“You light up like Thomas Edison at his desk,”

Brilliant, burdened yet always pressed

Did you know all your life they’d compare,

Your spark to his, your dreams to theirs?

I’m not trying to be that light,

But I think I might break before I take it

Break before I’m allowed at the Met,

No one in my old house thought I’d be enough to make it on the crowded set 

The legacy is heavy, but you’re the new thing,

A flicker of “good” genius through the old legends they bring

Take the brilliance, give everything,

Promise to be amazing 

“You shine bright like Stephen Spielberg under the spotlight,”

Lens flare gleams with holy might

Camera borders frame your time,

Crowds will hold their breath for your divine

I’m not trying to be that bright,

But I think I might drown in their voices

Drown in their choices for me,

No one in my small town thought I’d script a life good enough to critique

The legacy is heavy, but you’re the real thing,

A flicker of bright originality through the shadows of repetition they bring

Take the charm, give everything,

Promise to be dazzling

Kindness is a beast that roars,

Claws on the floor, demanding more

Only when your softest arc shatters with a spark,

Do they let you remark?

It’s hell on earth to remake heaven and still belong,

To always live in the echoes of another’s song

“You look like Edison Scott in this light,”

A fire going night after night 

You’ve got the story, he never could write,

The future’s bright

Perfection