you, who were kissed

by the maid, joan of arc

on the eve of her triumph

so long ago

held aloft by your mother

in the air wild

with bells

offered in joy

to her shining lips

were you branded forever

with the fire of holiness?

did your starved limbs fill out

with the promise of bliss?

touched by the soldier-maid

sent straight from heaven

surrounded by angels

and god, the electric

did your heart swell triumphant?

was your voice raised in song?

you, who were brushed

by the passage of destiny

kissed by wonder and joy

one bright night in your youth

held

for a moment

by the hope of a nation

did your soul grow inside you?

did it matter at all?