The Eerie and the Melody
I had a wicked homeschool math lesson post to share, but it must wait. Vexing for the real is on my mind tonight. It seems the particulars of real are like shadows without warning: close and personal. The kind where you bob & weave only to find they still linger behind you. Like a broken record, my mind's needle scratches the rigid vinyl of now. I confront this present with past and future held tightly in each hand. The melody plays in that awkward ambiance the way that a 45 will spin. You know, with that distant lonely and eerily offset tune? And, I stand on the dance floor alone with party dress attire and handfuls of yesterday and tomorrow.
I beg for either lead to sway even if it's the slightest half step of a rhythm. Alas, nothing. I have 2 dance partners unwilling to commit to my now. My dance. My need for a lead. And, I know all too well it's not lady like to shift my hand to the small of one's back.
So, I wait. My toes tingling and my dress pressed. The immediacy of the melody begs for a way around the dance floor. I am anxious and so very eager. Yet, I wait. Solemnly. Politely. Intensely. I wait.
Me.
Moving through me.
The eerie and the melody. I am compelled to dance nonetheless. I want to glide and swirl with my eyes closed and my smile wide; I want to find that place called presence. And, I want to hold my rhythm there. Unconcerned with the right hand of you should have and the left hand of what if, I want my now to know no end. I want internal speculation to cease. "But, of course you wore the right dress, darling."
Life brings us there. To that place of righteousness & validity right where we are. Did I say just what was needed? Am I doing what is right? Am I where I need to be? Past and future have a hold undeniably profound and powerfully profuse in our present oblivious to whether we like it or not.
Tonight my dance floor is crowded with all too much room to move. Alas, nothing. Paralyzed and vexed, I wait. The small of my back is vacant.
.mac