Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Listen...It's a Love Song!
They dance together under a starlit sky.
He is entranced by her. Radiant, resplendent in amazing gold, he moves, but barely, so mesmerized is he by her beauty and grace as he gently leads her around in their dance. Humming an energetic song, gregarious, effusive, and powerful, his voice fill the space around them, touches others, nearly creates the party itself. But his focus is on her, for she is the most alive, the most beautiful, the most vivacious at this party.
She is dressed in majestic blues and emerald greens, with touches of divine white, obscuring and revealing rich flesh tones, here pale, there rich ochre, and through light and shadow, everything in between. Long ago in her youth, she dressed more startlingly - more flesh, more black, more fiery red and arresting orange. Now, we have to look closely to see that fiery sparkle, still there but sparingly, even demurely applied. She seems coquettish and coy, pulling away from him even as she is attracted to him. He compels her so, it's as if she knows she must restrain herself, to let the cosmic winds dance between them, lest she collapse herself into their union and disappear. So even as she loves him and is attracted to him, she tugs resolutely away. He loves her all the more for it.
Slowly they dance, he gently guiding her around. Look! She's tilted her countenance just so. As they dance, what she shows to him about herself changes with the passing rhythms. His song so tantalizes, so tickles her, she too begins to sing. She sings a song that draws its energy from his, and adds to it her own inventions. Her lilting, complex melody to his enchanting bass, the two of them creating magic. And she so loves the feeling of his song against her body that she twirls herself around and around, capturing the feeling of his song on every part of her, again and again. She fairly giggles with delight, her laughter creating life all around her.
And we reflect the magic of their dance - from him, the source of the song - the deep abiding source, the warmth of the sun. From the tilt of her countenance and the swirl of their dance we hear the song of the seasons. From her delighted twirling, our rhythm of night and day.
Through the gentle filter of her song, we experience his song. Through all of us in attendance, through one another, each affected by the turning of the seasons, the daily experience of light and dark, the flush of spring, the strength of summer, the harvest and release of autumn, and the sleep of winter, we hear her song. We sing her song. We are her song.
Sing well, my brothers and sisters. In harmony with the rocks, the waves, the trees, the birds, the flowers, and our own lively creations, sing along.
All the world's our stage, and life is it's grand performance. Sing well.
Posted by John Carosella at 1:18 PM