The Scenes to Come

As family gathered in our living room,
Continuing within their day-long stay
While resting in the lazy afternoon,
Amanda asked if you’d agree to play
A piece you once performed in a ballet;
With her, your mom and Jon and me beside
You there, you let your bashfulness subside.

You put a tape into the VCR
And cued it so that just ahead you would
Unveil the movements of the repertoire
To which you’d pledged your days of childhood.
Enclosing you, the corps of others stood
Aside, and you proceeded to engage
The crowd with your performance on the stage.

Tchaikovsky’s composition filled the air
As you displayed your subtle mastery:
The rigid grace your body kept, the care
With which you spun around so easily
And kept on pointe with sure dexterity.
Nothing can mirror the marriage of a sound
And sight when both so brilliantly astound.

At barely fifteen then, you’d left your home
To train in San Francisco and refine
Your craft, and even though you’d not yet grown
Into the woman I’d live for once time
Had given us the chance for dinners, wine,
And endless talks, your presence then and mild
Allure concealed that you were still a child.

As we sat there, I had these thoughts: with age
It seems we fall into our best debuts;
Most ballerinas end their years on stage
Before the rest of us have any clue
About the things in life we wish to do.
Three years ago you met this fool, when we
Were only twenty-four and twenty-three,

And I look forward to the scenes to come,
To see all you’ll accomplish in your life,
To have a better seat than anyone;
I’m proud of that girl on the screen who thrived
So well, but prouder still of you, my wife,
Who has lived out the dreams she held before
And has desires to keep pursuing more. 

Ballet Class with a Blind

Student Named Cricket 

“The world has never felt so pure before,”
you tell the girls who leap into the air.
When little Cricket leaps across the floor,

the other girls are careful to be sure
to give her space, although she’s unaware;
the world has never felt so pure before.

Because her blindness hinders her no more
than Ludwig’s ears did him, the students stare
when little Cricket leaps across the floor.

She trusts your voice and hand amid the corps
of hopeful dancers swaying here and there;
the world has never felt so pure before.

Her mother waits just past the corridor
and sees the mirrors and walls completely bare.
When little Cricket leaps across the floor,

she sees a sea of eyes and hears the roar
of crowds who’ve come for her from everywhere;
the world has never felt so pure before
when little Cricket leaps across the floor.