Reunion
Eyes
light up, face relaxes,
arms’
arc opens wide
as
her hands dance in step
with
mystery words leaving her lips.
The
din! Sequestered in a small space,
chattering
voices compete for comprehension.
Drowned
in the clamor, my wife’s tale
an
enigma to me. Her onetime classmate
reads
her lips, recalls the story, grins.
Lilt
in her voice, spot-on word choice
reveal
the revelry sparked in her soul
whenever
it’s time for a tale to be told.
For
all these married years I’ve marveled
as
shy scholar steps aside, seasoned storyteller
takes
the stage. But tonight, amidst cacophony,
lilt
and lyrics are lost to me. It’s as if I’m in
a
movie house taking in a silent flick,
one
with no captions beneath the action.
I
admire the star as she mimes the story.
There’s
magic in the mime: no details
of
plot distract--the moment’s joy is its own.
What
is this winsome force that overtakes
my
Valerie? The spell summoned by memory,
transitory
transport to youthful times?
Adrenalin
stirred by the swirling crowd?
Or
is the most entrancing spirit
the
charm that’s fallen on me?
Michael Pennanen
A
retired Protestant minister, Michael Pennanen has pastored several
congregations and served as a hospice chaplain. He has had liturgical materials
published in worship resource books and also a poem in Heart of Flesh;
another will appear in a forthcoming issue of The Windhover.