The Magnificent Party
Last night I had a dream
All good stories start this way
I was in a grand hall with many rooms
Not like heaven
More like a Marriott convention space
I was with a man I love
He encouraged me to explore these rooms
And figure out
Where I fit in
The first room I “attended” was a cabana
Clear water surrounding me
Beautiful people with beautiful sun kissed bodies lounging about like a GAP ad
I was regular, pale, and overdressed
I laughed too loudly, no one noticed me at all
We met up in the lobby and he chastised me for not sticking around
“It might have been fun.”
“You should do things.”
“No, not those things.”
Suddenly I was in a red dress.
Modest- like a Kate Spade or Lilly Pulitzer
It was cute
A word a woman over 40 should never be
I was in a room full of black people
I was a white woman in a room with beautiful brown bodies
trying to “fit in”
The people in this room were part of a large congregation of the religious kind
Some were robed
Some had babies on laps
Some were laughing and toasting
I wanted to laugh and toast too
The room suddenly became quiet
All eyes shifted to the stage at the front of the room
A tiny girl with braids reached out a hand and beckoned me to come onto the stage
I was soon standing front and center of a large choir
The piano began to play
I closed my eyes and began to sway with the group
“The first time ever I saw your face”
I opened my mouth and Roberta Flack came out
But not Roberta Flack
Trapped, white Roberta Flack
“Like the trembling heart of a captive bird”
I was a captive bird
But now a free bird in a gospel choir
I closed my eyes again- trying to marinate in the moment
I felt I was a thief
Incapable of displaying this kind of depth
I was not religious
I was not black
I’ve never been persecuted or captive
I was manufactured soul
And then I was awakened by the man next to me
He said, “You were singing in your sleep”.
“Yes”, I said.
