There is a star, beckoning from the cold, dark sky. It is brilliant, piercing, insistent upon shining.
* * * * * * * *
Sitting in the corner of the bar, I can see the man I married and am divorcing. The fear washes over me, courses through me. I cannot do this....I cannot sit here....I cannot move.
Of course, this is not possible. One must move or one must be still. One cannot do or be both still or in motion. Frozen. In this dark corner, buffered by the table, I ponder these things in my heart. I want to experience the music; I want to be unafraid.
The irony of this evening is inescapable. This man I married introduced me to this music, these musicians, sang these songs for me. I was safe, so safe, so secure in love. His first words to me, We are going to dance. . . . They resonated. I imagined our life as a dance, swaying, moving forward, backward, together.
He was beautiful. Magic flowed from his fingertips. I wept when he touched me. Sweet release. Sweet acceptance. His gaze melted my resistance to warmth and light.
Surely, God loved me because He sent me this man.
* * * * * * * *
I am afraid to move but the music surrounds me, at once a loving embrace and a mother bird shoving her baby from the nest. A broad-shouldered man takes my hand and leads me to the crowded dance floor. It seems odd, as if someone else is experiencing this evening and I am watching from the corner, or the ceiling even, as if I am not in my body. He can't dance but his joy is inescapable. He is like a child, excited and un-self-conscious. He is tall and strong and there is a moment where I feel safe. The saxophone is just above me. The faces of the musicians are brightly lit, they glow as suns. I raise my hands, my hips sway in praise. I am here, present, in this moment, in this body.
The fear is swallowed up by the joyful noise. I walk outside alone and it is raining, cloudy. The star is there; even when I cannot see, the star is insistent upon shining. This I know: Surely, God loves me for He sent me this moment.
Dance of the Snowflakes