By Robert A. Scott
My wife and I attended the Met Opera recently and I found myself choked up at the finale. This is what I thought.
Why do I cry,
When I hear a spirit soar?
You’ve seen the tears.
A dozen times or more.
Am I still a child
When I cry this way,
Or is it healthy
For tears to hold sway?
For tears show we’re touched,
Alert to a tune,
That our soul is in view,
This side of the moon.
How many times
Did my inner self speak,
When reading a verse
And tears made me weak?
Did I even know
How much I revealed?
How much I was saying?
How much I concealed?
For tears flow from eyes,
The doors to one’s soul.
In eyes we see stories:
We can see life’s toll.
These stories of self,
Are life’s bread and wine,
They tell of our days,
Both yours and mine.
The spirit that soars
Is a challenge to all.
It reminds us of youth,
Of life’s ardent call.
The tears show not sorrow,
But mark what might be.
They remind us that dreams
Are still ours to see.
Robert A. Scott, President Emeritus, Adelphi University, and Author, How University Boards Work, Johns Hopkins Press