Love Letters to the King

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Love Letters to the King



The Dance



I am tired, my Lord.

Burdened by my insignificance, I’m drained of all ability to believe myself capable of rising above my stature. Aching, my muscles are a reminder to my servitude, as is the bruise on my arm to my invisibility.

Today, as I was sweeping the steps to my master’s store, I was engulfed in a dust cloud rising from the road. And, not taking time to negotiate the dirty haze, villagers ran into me. Their dispassion forbidding them to extend any common courtesy, I was left discouraged, defeated and bruised. The rest of the day’s chores were much the same leaving me want for escape.

I wanted to run into the presence of the one who breathes life to my body and soul. I tried to imagine myself in the garden standing by your side beneath your Willow tree, but the vision eluded me. My fatigue was erasing you from my mind. And, my pain made mockery of your image as a hallucination of a lonely heart.

I fought against the weariness, but energy lost in the battle made room for despair to tighten her grip around my body making it difficult to push back. In the end, I gave in to sorrow. Tears washed my face.

At day’s end, I left the village. Following the faint impression still burned into the secret chamber of my heart, I headed towards your garden. My shoes were filled with gravel from the dry, horse-trodden road, and with every step the stones bit the soles of my feet. My dress soaked with sweat clung to my body. Wiping my brow, the thought of my own bed in the village brought more solace than the journey to your garden, but I pressed on.

By the time I arrived, the sun was dipping below the horizon. The last of day’s light shone through the trees, cloaking the garden in shadow.

Tranquility spilled forth as an intangible cloud that engulfed my body and nurtured my soul. The celestial twilight penetrated my spirit, renewing me from the inside. You were there. I could feel you.

Although the evening’s air began to cool, my skin was feverish. Nearing the gate, I let go of my shawl allowing it to slip from my shoulders, down my back and onto the ground. Two steps before entering I pulled the slip knot from my hair, shaking the dust from my locks and letting them cascade down my back. I stepped out of my shoes and left them at the foot of the gate before entering your garden.

Leaving the path, I stepped barefooted onto the grass whose chill sent shivers up my legs. With each step, the coarse blades scrubbed the dirt from the soles of my feet. The night air dried my dress until it lay loose like gossamer gauze around me.

The cicadas serenaded the evening sky and every living thing in the landscape swayed in the wind to the rhythm of nature’s symphony. I could not help but to join in. As a ballerina who twirls while affixed to the interior of a delicate music box, I lifted my arms in arc formation above my head and twirled. Lifting my leg as far above the earth as I could reach, I raised my eyes the sky before pulling my body into the earth and bowing in the dance. I leapt, I ran, I twirled, and I swayed until my chest beat so hard I could not catch my breath.

My hair flowed across my shoulders and down my back with some tendrils stuck to the sides of my face. I ran a finger across my hairline and down my cheek, scooping the loose strands behind my ear, and in doing so, I caught an image in the far corner of the garden.

I could barely make out your silhouette. There, in the courtyard leaning against an oak, the only aspect of your darkened figure evident was the smile upon your face.

How long had you been watching me?

Inspired by the night music and invigorated by the chill of evening’s breeze, I returned your smile and twirled again, spinning as if I were a dandelion puff caught in the wind. My dress billowed about me making me feel as though I could take flight.

With arms held high above my head, I stopped facing your direction. A smile upon my lips, I lowered my eyes to the ground and curtsied towards you. For you, my Lord, are the true joy that invades my heart and sets my foot to dance.

Love,

Princess

“You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever. Psalms 30:11-12 (NIV)