A Time to Dance(74)

            For me that feeling

            of wonder, of awe, of mystery,

            of being in touch with something larger,

            is as close as God comes.”


Wonder. Mystery. Awe.

            In touch with something large and good.

            The way I felt as a child in the temple of the dancing Shiva,

            exploring every crevice of His sculpted feet with my fingertips.

            I had no questions then. Only a yearning to learn dance.

            I have questions now. But perhaps I don’t need answers.

            Like Gautami, who, in the end, didn’t need an explanation

            for her son’s death, because she found

            experiencing Buddha’s compassion was enough.

            Perhaps even God doesn’t know

            why some suffer more, some less.


Paati seemed sure what God meant to her.

            Maybe, like Govinda, I don’t need to be sure.

            Maybe all I need is to feel what I felt as a child. Through dance.

            By dancing a different way,

            dancing so it strengthens not just my body,

            but also helps me find, then soothe, and strengthen, my soul.





CLOSE





Govinda and I arrive at a pond filled with dark pink lotuses.

            “This is my temple,” Govinda says.

            He sits next to me on the grassy bank.

            There’s a space between us, a sliver of air.

            He held my waist the day of the party.

            Now, with no one else nearby,

            with no excuse to touch me, he’s careful and correct.

            I love that he’s such a gentleman.

            I hate that he’s such a gentleman.


While we sit together, sharing silence,

            my impatience slowly falls away.

            Music enters my mind,

            notes as sweet as I always heard as a child.

            A frog hops onto the grass, tha thing gina thom.

            In the distance, a woodpecker raps at a tree trunk,

            tha thai tha, dhit thai tha.


Govinda whispers, “Tha thai tha, dhit thai tha.”

            He’s saying aloud

            the same rhythm I hear in my head.

            “Veda, can you hear it?

            Music to dance to. All around us.”


“I hear it.”

            I feel closer to him

            than if we were in one another’s arms.





A PART





The evening of our performance

            as a minor player in the large sweep of a dance production

            the nervousness I feel is not for myself

            but for Govinda, who is in the lead,

            and for Radhika and all the others

            who stay longer onstage than I do.


Akka lights a lamp backstage and we bow to it.


When it’s my turn,

            my right foot leads my left