“An
Angel’s Meditation”
“O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?”
-- from
“Among School Children” by W.B. Yeats
We
danced before the universe began,
Although
“before” is relative when time
Had not
begun; to dance was then to stand
And
gaze with praise at Glory so sublime
That expectation
lay on every hand
For
infinity to breathe and sing and shine.
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
We
danced when first the Spirit moved across
The
deep, which was eternity, the void
That
was a nothingness, but not a loss
Because
nothing was made, and we were buoyed
Up on
the waves of what could be and tossed
About
by our anticipation’s joy.
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
We spun
around each photon, every quark
And
neutron was a chance to sing the praise
Of the
eternal Voice that leaves its mark
In
light itself. We twirled for ages and
for days
Or
maybe less than seconds; when the spark
of time
was young we did not know its ways.
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
Then
time was organized by moving stars
(For
they came into being – galaxies
And
nebulae and all the avatars
Of
splendor, color-filled capacities
For
volts and metric tons and millibars).
How
strange it felt to dance with gravity!
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
With
time came rhythm and with rhythm sound
To
shape its footsteps. Dip and swoop and
bend
Gained
greater meaning when the up and down
Of
notes were added to the cadence when
On one
small, turquoise world that spun around
A
yellow star, we heard the birds’ “Amen.”
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
Our
hearts were drawn – or did the Glory send
Our
hearts to watch the earth? Surely we
learned
From
all we saw in time: women and men
Beloved
by the Composer whose light burned
In sun
and stars and who gave sight to them
That they
might see the steps, and yet they turned.
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
They
turned from what had been the pattern set
And
chose – as we had never thought to do –
A
different way. The music, too, turned
minor.
We
beheld what we had never guessed
Could
happen – saw it fall apart. A few
Steps shuffled
on. Most halted in despair.
O body
swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can
we know the dancer from the dance?
How can
we know the dancer from the dance
When
only from the dance is He inferred?
How,
when the melody has stopped, can we
Produce
a sound? Forget the harmony!
With no
sight of the Choreographer
Feet
move in nothing but an aimless trance.
Then we
beheld and heard within the core
Of this
creation, groaning deeply, bent
With
pain and sorrow, twisted up and sore,
An
unexpected, unknown element
Of
grace. The Holy One whom we adore
Had
spoken in a baby’s cry the cure.
His
body swayed to a lullaby, he slept.
The
dance was cradled in a barn. We leapt
With
joy again and sang across the sky:
“Glory
be to God on high!
And
peace on earth, new-reconciled
To him
by this small, God-filled child.”
And we
shall praise him in the moves
Of
ever-swirling,
Ever-twirling,
Never-stopping,
Obstacle-hopping,
Overcoming,
Drumming,
humming,
Harp-string
strumming,
Music-making,
Life-partaking
Love.
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