2010-05-16 Archive, Poetry, Dancing with the Angels

2007-11-04 Dancing With The Angels (long version)

It was a funeral, Alexa.
A memorial to the dead.
But there you were, alone,
“Dancing with the Angels,”
Clad in silky white, flowing,
Your soul naked before hundreds,
To honor someone you loved.

What is it like in your world, Alexa,
To do ballet in the face of death?
Are you like the Viking in the “13th Warrior?”
Reciting the chant before you die ---

“Lo, there do I see my father.
Lo, there do I see my mother,
And my sisters and my brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people
Back to the beginning.
Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them,
in the Halls of Valhalla.
Where the brave may live forever...”

And, dressed in white, she steps into the flames,
As the longship burns his body,
To join her king in death. But no.

What is it like in your world, Alexa,
To honor your friend with dance?
To face our final destiny with music and with life.
To smile through the certainty of oncoming pain.
If only we all had the courage
To live in your world; it would be good.

“Such a man would be rich, indeed,”
If words are drawn to remember his life.
But richer still is the one for whom,
a beautiful woman will dance for his passing.

* * *
It was a dinner, Mary.
A party given by your sister
To honor Jesus, who raised
Your brother from the dead.
But there you were, alone,
Breaking open a pound of perfume,
Pure Nard, worth a year of work.
You knelt behind him, behind Jesus,
And pouring it over his feet,
You wiped it off with your hair.

What is it like in your world, Mary,
To love someone so much that
You would do something so private,
So personal, in such a public way?
Did you shrink back at the criticism? ---
“You should have sold it
And given the money to the poor.”

What is it like to have him defend you,
Telling them to leave you alone,
That you might keep it for his burial?
Only to have that prophecy fulfilled
Six days later, as you watched him die.

* * *
It was a Passover, Jesus.
A thousand-year-old memorial
To the Exodus from Egypt.
But there you were, alone.
It was you, and you alone,
Who stripped off your clothes,
Wrapped yourself in a towel,
Poured water into a basin,
And began to wash the dirt
From the feet of the men around you.

What is it like in your world, Jesus,
To sacrifice your dignity just to make a point;
To do all things well;
To move with grace and mercy
In the face of anger and hatred;
To offer care and forgiveness in the face of death?

How can we ever live up to your example;
To love one another unto death?
We can’t do this without you.
Help us to channel your spirit
Through our own lives.

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and
Where the Spirit of the Lord is,
There is freedom.
But we all, with unveiled face,
Beholding in a mirror
The glory of the Lord,
Are transformed
Into the same image
From glory to glory,
Just as from the Lord,
The Spirit.”