Take Your Seat

It’s funny
How things come together.
How destiny dances a lucky draw.

Of all the shows. Of all the slabs. Of all the rows.
This was mine,
Hand-selected by fortune herself.

A tragedy of baroque raiment and regalia unfolded on stage,
With a herd around me gawking and gasping,
Pretending they hadn’t a clue.
Yet there I was—a spiral amidst squares.

“So why was I there?”

My thoughts swam laps above the stage.
My eyes strolled aimlessly across the crowd.
I scoured every face in that place,
Until my heart finally grasped a glimmer of light—
The moon’s reflection shaded green
By an iris’s majestic grin.

Her smile could melt the hearts of a thousand men.
Her hair could put silk out of business.
Her breasts could swallow an infant’s dreams.
But her eyes...oh, her eyes!
They are Shakespeare’s every inspiration.

When the waves of praise rolled back to sea,
And the curtsies all completed,
It was then I courted my Queen,
It was then I began to see…

…why I was there.
At that show. On that slab. In that row.

Because fortune works in funny ways.
And on that day
She gave me a sign…