Istituto Mazzarrone - Licodia di Mazzarrone (CT)

Docente responsabile Vincenza Oddo

Manuela

Manuela

Tu dolce fiore,

ancora da germogliare,sei appassito senza

poter crescere.

Solo colpa di

un tragico incidente ,  cui il tempo

non saprà mai rispondere,

perché è atroce

quel destino che fatalmente dice “no”                                                                                                                

  all’amore di un padre                                                                                                                                                          

   che pure ti ha voluta.

Tu piccola bambola ,                                                                                                           

    bella più di tutti,

sei l’unica possibile                                                                                                                        

   ragione che resta ad una madre                                                                                                         

    che non potrà mai                                                                                                    

  spiegare a se stessa                                                                                                                                            

   come l’amore più grande                                                                                                                                                       

   possa divenire                                                                                                                                                                                         

 oscura morte ,                                                                                                                                            

  opaco e luminoso                                                                                                                                                                                                 

 mistero della vita                                                                                                                          

  che,  in te  ,                                                                                                                                                                               

  rende bella                                                                                                                                                                                            

   persino  la  tua                                                                                                                     

  fragile innocenza  ,                                                                                                                                 

 nell’atra bellezza                                                                                                                                       

del sonno eterno che ti stringe.                                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                                                      

   Intanto, nel buio candore                                                                                                                        

  che ti avvolge                                                                                                                       

  di freddo scuro,                                                                                                                                                              

   il tuo sorriso                                                                                                                           

   rimane pur sempre rosa                                                                                                                         

  alla vita                                                                                                                                         

 e tu                                                                                                                               

parli

a suggerire                                                                                                                                               

 silenziosa                                                                                                                                             

 i giorni di                                                                                                                                                        

di muta apparenza                                                                                                                                     

  che nel desiderio                                                                                                                                           

   ti rendono viva.

                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Sei andata via, lasciando                                                                                                                                         

  il ricordo della  bellezza e dell’amore di chi                                                                                                                                                    

  ti ama.

                                                                                                                                                    

   Chi vorrà ricordarti,lo farà                                                                                                                        

  solamente dicendo:                                                                                                          

  “Ciao Manuela, so che sei sempre con me!”

                                                                                                                                           

Tua vis                                                                                                                                                    

semper mea                                                                                                                                      

  vita est  !                                                                                                                                        

   Tua tempora                                                                                                                                                

  semper mea                                                                                                                                                 

   aeternitas                                                          

  erunt!

                                           

Dedicato alla piccola Manuela, tragicamente scomparsa  a soli due anni, in un fatale destino che ha visto il padre  involontario autore dell’incidente di macchina che  ha macabramente rotato la piccola nel garage di casa propria, dinanzi agli occhi increduli e impotenti della madre.  L’incidente è avvenuto lo scorso gennaio nella piccola comunità di Mazzarrone, che si è unanimamente stretta al dolore della piccola venuta a mancare e dei genitori.                                                                                                                                                       

Antony Coccimiglio

Giada Aristia

Giada Dell’Aquila

Classe III B, Scuola Media E.Majorana , Mazzarrone.

                                                                                                                                    

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Email this to someone