Come, Dance With Me

Come, you say, a broad smile bringing
youth to your face, can you hear that,
remember that song? Come, dance with me.
Your arms reaching toward me, drawing me
forward into the large room with its space
to move, and yes, I do hear that music,
and yes, I do very much want your arms
to encircle me, your gentle, firm guidance
sweeping me into a slow, graceful motion,
bringing back memory of how we clung to
one another those sixty years ago.

My body remembers the rhythm as though
that sixty years was only yesterday. And
only yesterday you did, in fact, do the very
same thing. And the week, the month, the
years before. Suddenly re-discovering the
pleasures of youth, so deeply embedded
within that time's passage is as nothing.

We do resemble what we so long ago were,
are in fact deeply indebted to our early selves.
We glide so effortlessly, exuding comfort,
trust, warmth and a deeply abiding love
overlaid with that ever present mood that
ingrained attraction mutual attraction the
years have scarce diminished. And that smile;
have I told you lately how much it means to me?
It is distinguished by being my very own.