The Last Play

Forgive my attraction to Your man

How can I find resistance—there is no footfall for reverse

I am not the one who directs the strings

For is it not Your Dream?   Your Name

Remains on my lips as I shudder my acquiescence

My eyelids slowly rise with the curtain

My heart thuds, right here, right here

Affirming my powerlessness as Your character

A bit part I was told, but really, are there any in You?

You are the Writer, and the Audience

The welcoming applause, answering my fervent sweat for comfort

The Yes of affirmation:  “Fear not, for I am with you!”,  You mouth the silent words

I’ll speak the lines then that I am given, have memorized, no prompting needed

And know it’s up to me to find the resonance that conjures faith

Then stride with confidence, deliberation,  from stage right to stage left,  my costume perfect

Pausing aglow at the front to join the male in this story, my love

I cannot change the lines, the choreography

I’m no longer fitful with false pretense of authorship

But I did pass the audition

So feats, carry me well, keep my head high, bright in the Light

I am Your earnest actress, and only then, the partner for Your actor, leading

The curtain fall will find us: Yours, bowing before You

The unison of that motion, the timing

Yet to be seen.