Memories of Bach
Memories of Bach
At 17, I performed a solo ballet to Bach
Below a sparkling sky,
On a park’s open green grass.
The choreography flowed.
I was well-rehearsed.
The opportunity, special, before
Some of our gathered city’s spectators.
This genius: Bach.
This glorious cantata:
“Jesu,]oy of Man’s Desiring.”
And, I, the young ballerina,
Wrapped very Grecian-like in an ivory, silk tunic,
Stepping out to
Meet the first notes,
Humbly opening my arms
— first right, then left —
To invite the music to my dance.
But, barely a quarter-minute into the piece,
I was overwhelmed —
As my first dance ever
Out-of-doors —
The sky was my ceiling
And it was too high,
Making my reaching upward breathless.
There were no stage wings
To mark the arrowing points of my arabesques.
My memory lost all upcoming moves
To the sparse clouds
in their swirling crossing of the sky.
I let Bach choreograph my choice
Of upcoming motions as I
Let myself become his music
On to the end.
About a decade later,
On a cloudless, August day,
(the hottest day that year).
I asked for Bach
To sound, again.
Dear Bach’s
“Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring,” rose
Meeting our ears so magnificently
From the organ, as
I stepped into the church,
Wearing yards of wrapped white silk.
I stepped gently down the aisle
Toward my waiting groom.
My own joy carried me
Into the cantata
In celebration of
Our wedding day and
Of our decades of love
Together, on that day
Just beginning.
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(c) sally young Eslinger 10/21 poem
Thanks be to God
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