The wedding dance
Disjointed, foreign and mournful
Coffee, dark and black, sun on my back
A male voice, bearded, dark brown eyes
He sings, empowered by his masculinity
This is his world, he is the king of the souk
Closing his eyes he is lost in a world of music and rhythm
The smells, the noise, the heat, the cold
All vanish as he loses himself in the song
Behind him dances a young girl, long dark hair, silken skirts
She spins and turns, eyes closed, shutting out the world
Incense drifts in dark blue plumes – smoky, fragrant, choking
The beat of a drum, strange rhythms, not for western feet
Rice rattles in the sacks in the bizarre
But she isn’t there, she is far, far away
A princess in a fantasy world, not a young bride, bartered and bought
There’s a marriage of arrangement
A joining of families, not of hearts
But when the music plays, when they sing and dance
Then there is union
Then there is harmony, rhapsody
Peace
And across the globe, a party explodes
Men dance, feet drumming on the wooden floor
Vodka spills as glasses are raised in toast
A donkey brays, the air is crisp and cold, the sky is blue
Celebrate, celebrate
The bride sits alone, to be admired
Gifts are strewn at her feet
But the day is about the groom, about his strength and vitality
Crude jokes are told of the wedding night
She blushes, innocent yet not so much
And all around the world, weddings are consummated, wine is drunk, gifts are given
The human need to be pair bonded and to celebrate that bonding
Family, families, unite together
Celebrate, celebrate
