Koinonia

How we all change day to day, year to year.
If I met the person I was sixty years ago, would I like her?
Forty? Twenty? Yesterday?

Talking with my seatmate on the plane
I tapped into the universal language –
Commonality is a lingua franca
Last night on the dance floor, each of us shone
Like individual moonbeams

I liked the women in sequined dresses, all silver and gold
And the tipsy girl in tulle
My aging muscles remembered the steps
Knees complaining afterward
Like proud, exhausted athletes
Who didn’t shoot the winning basket, but helped

Our moonbeams flashed
With the same kind fire
Into the welcoming night

And fifty years ago
My hips could telegraph and tease
My arms could play a talking drum
Of anxious youth
Striving for a clear opening to victory
On the racecourse of world peace

Would that girl recognize this queen of leisure
Tuning her senses to each sentient being without a qualm?
Anxiety is a burden not to be borne
Oneness is our Blood Type O
And will I take this knowing into tomorrow?

Perhaps my consciousness is a layered dress –
Sequins, tulle and silk
Over clean, soft cotton
All the layers pressed together imprint the soul
Like a leaf from under the microscope

Note: Koinonia means a spiritual communion. This was the winning word correctly spelled by the winner of the National Spelling Bee, 14-year old Karthik Nemmani. This poem is a reflection on layers of self, after attending a wedding and reception of my dear nephew. Traveling cross-country to be with family brings up a lot of feelings. Who am I? Which I?