Strike Your Pose

Strike Your Pose

(“For Adonai takes delight in his people, he crowns the humble with salvation.” Psalm 149:4)

Strike your pose and remember the angels who
will never let your feet be tangled. Oh humble,
the Eternal views the movements of joy.

Circle with hair flying, arms flailing, verdant blurs with
borders of blue. What began this transcendent dance
higher than angels’ sight within heaven’s range?

No translation is needed, memory informs the cues,
as the glory unrestrained replaces the
years of treeless skies.

We know what harm yesterday feared, what subtractions
our nearsighted ways nearly adopted for truth. Loss
was our cardboard cabin exposed to the leading edge of every storm.

When did the day begin to bright upon the pathway
to our weathered door? When did light hide no more,
the beams of morning painting the beams, ceiling to floor?

I remember the steps from younger days, the swings and lifts,
the leaps and shuffles eight and over again. Partners painted
sunrises while rain melted against the metal studio roof.

We abandoned nothing, for we had not taken up the
burdens of age.
And now, in leaving them

The dance feels strange, awkward and full of risk; like the
first beat I tried to hear in three-quarter time.

Strike the pose, the lessons are free.