Cathedral

I walked into his cathedral, limping. Banged and bruised, inside and out. Hair mussed, curls hanging up and down and a large orange butterfly clipped into the madness. Leopard print cane supporting my gimp knee, slow steps, we found our seats. I said 'J' for Jewish and we all laughed. Well I did. Sitting at row Jewish, I began to get nervous. Nervous for this old man about to creak out onto the stage, nervous for my expectations which are always high and never ever within reach. I looked at the Goddesses on the walls, butterflies too and I knew I was in good company. Golden and serene, taking it all in, perplexing humanity spreading out among the seats. I have been alone in my love for his music for years. What a treat to be among fan boys and girls.

At the appointed time the band began, the players so deeply good in the knowledge of their instrument, aged and smiling. I smiled too. On the end of my seat is where I first saw him. Old but not creaking, he skipped to the microphone and launched into one of my favorites, he knelt at the guitar player and sang. The music swirled tenderly through the air and I took deep breaths to bring it into me. It was one of those sacred times when there is no time, nothing more then music and the man with the golden voice singing his prayers, bowing respectfully to his band. Joking and full of life at 74. I had no idea that a person could still be enthralled with life at that age. My expectation was that life begins to leak out sometime around 60 or in my case, 37.

I began to feel illuminated in his presence, my tank empty began to fill. The songs that kept me above water on dark nights blessed me, again and again. I was not healed but close.

When he sang 'Forget your perfect offerings, there is a crack, a crack in everything – thats how the light gets in.' I cried. I cried for me and for you and Leonard. I have cracks and no spackle my pain bleeds out my eyeballs and I know what you mean when you call yourself the snowman.

A woman behind me screamed “Marry me Leonard!” She is completely serious. There are many I love yous, tossed from all around the cathedral. I reach out with my heart to him, I offer him many years of life and love that endures. I ask him, in my head and heart to never die. Most songs got standing ovations, he smiled out at us. The house lights would come up a lot so he could properly see us.

It was a sitting kinda concert so I danced sitting in my seat. The music swirling as I mentioned before, somehow a deeper poignancy in the words, his voice deeper, richer with age. At moments, I find myself with my arms out, palms up offering and receiving. Borrowing the intensity and sincere love that flows from his music. I am in a trance, fully taken, open to receive. 'We may be ugly but, we got the music.' Exactly.

That night at the end of the show, he thanked everyone, even the caterers, he bowed to his backup singers, the stage hands, the truckers. A full bow too, none of those quickie bows. 3 hours of playing, 3 encores, it was time to go.

He said, “We don't know when we'll be back.” I cried. I was full of his honesty and beauty. The years were not always kind but they were his. He relishes them and grows, still grows.