Poem – Rudolf Nureyev

 

In the realm of ballet, a wild creature emerged,

Rudolf Nureyev, a rogue whose spirit surged.

Refusing to be tamed, he danced to his own beat,

A god of the stage, his name, we shall eternally repeat.

 

He dared to be free, took risks without fear,

Never glancing back, his path ahead was crystal clear.

No apologies for his temper or crude ways,

He lived on the edge, till the end of his days.

 

Devoted to his art, a passion that burned so very bright,

Fueled his every step, from morning until night.

Dance, his muse, the only one to whom he bowed,

To others, he turned a deaf ear, their feelings disallowed.

 

A selfish soul, bored by mere mortals around,

Friendships he abused, even if they were found.

Yet, on stage, his presence mesmerized all,

A force so powerful, he knew how to enthrall.

 

In his wake, generations of dancers he inspired,

Their admiration he demanded and desired.

He adored beauty in art, surrounded himself so,

With all the things he loved, to reflect his spirit’s glow.

 

As his life drew to a close, nostalgia filled his heart,

Resigned to his fate, he knew his legacy was always his art.

Dancers will forever look up, and learn from his meteoric climb,

He reached for greatness, with passion when he was in his prime.

 

Rudolf Nureyev, a name that forever will ring,

A rogue of ballet, an expert at everything.

In his flaws and brilliance, is how a legend is born,

A testament to art, and to the dreams that always carry a thorn.

~Suzanne Wagner~