being frank

One of the universal traits of being in love is that inspiration becomes a welcomed friend. The things you see, experience or encounter while in that controlled rapture open your senses to worlds previously unknown and allow you to savor some of life’s greatest and most ethereal treasures.

One such prize happened over 21 years ago while living in our first home after CeCe and I were married. It was around the time of her birthday and on this one afternoon, she was in the living room conversing with her mom. I was upstairs reading, when suddenly I heard music playing. I came down the stairs to see what was going on and caught my first glimpse of CeCe dancing ballet. Luckily, I was outside her line of sight and didn’t interrupt that beautiful moment as she moved to the music. I knew very little of the technical aspects of ballet at the time. Like many, I was held sway by the graceful moves; the captivating representation of music set to movement. Her dancing seemed to go on for a long time, though it was only for a few minutes. But the magic of that moment was one that I would never forget. Before she could see me, I snuck back upstairs and decided to compose a poem for her to capture that experience.

When she first told me that she had studied ballet for years in New York City, I would ask if I could see her dance. No, I can’t move that way anymore. I’m no longer that flexible, I’m not in shape… I understood and respected her assessments and wishes. But all that went out the door that one afternoon, so I wanted to give her something to remind her that in life and in love, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

She loved the poem, and asked if she could get a printed copy. Eventually, I did just that but went a bit further by printing it on a 5 x 7 piece of parchment that I then framed for her. I placed it at her desk along with a small bronze statuette of a ballet dancer I had purchased. Years later when we moved to the farm, she placed the framed poem and the statue of the ballerina in the library so it could be seen. She wanted me to have another point of inspiration in the library; something that would give my heart cause to dance.

There are many things I will forever be sharing about her, for she remains my inspiration, my muse and my true north. So I wanted to start by sharing that poem I composed for her all those years ago entitled, Ballerina. I hope it will spark your imagination to dance with the one you love.

Ballerina

With a grace known only to God,
She dances across the living room floor.
Her facial expressions belong to the ethereal moment;
A peace riding on top of endless experiences.

I watch her glide across the room;
This impressionistic breeze made flesh.
Whatever imperfections may have been apparent before
Are lost in the gentle expressiveness of her body.

I’m caught in this frail segment of time;
A prisoner to her every move.
No heart can rebuke God’s handiwork at the sight of a form
That turns music into sensual masterpieces of joy.

I cannot describe the emotions felt within;
Words are meager tools in the presence of such perfection.
Whatever love was within this heart
Now finds new depths in which to dwell.

How I love to watch her dance;
How I long to memorize her every move and pose.
A soul with such a talent is heaven sent, to be sure;
Blessed with the muted expressiveness of angels.

As she comes to the end of her practice
I realize how much our love is like the dance.
A miraculous intertwining of feelings and expressions;
One initiates the emotion while the other interprets their joy.

I pray for everlasting music; for etudes of light and magic.
I long to hold each moment within the grateful recesses of my heart.
For in the dance, there is a perennial celebration of life;
A monument to the ballerina I shall love forevermore.