I used to be graceful! Could run like flying, could leap boulder to boulder, swim like a wave, hike the high places, catch the long ball. No longer. My gracefulness was cut out by a 150 hp Evinrude. But my great blessing is I married graceful. My lover is at home beside the mountain stream, on the ballroom dance floor, tent traveling, or walking the halls of Versailles. Her body turned 74 yesterday, and a gift she gave us both was to slalom as we both did when young and unbound by the ages of the old. Her body of grace graced my soul with joy as joy only comes to the sweet kindness of long togetherness. Our lives together have been tragic and ecstatic but idyllic all along. We sat as lovers in the evening watching the sun roll down behind the Crab Orchard Mountains far to our west, held hands, each meditating on her turning 74 as an angel of gracefulness, and in our oneness, I was graceful(filled) too.
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