Curtain Call

With all due respect to the Bard, #WorldTheatreDay, and prayers for 3 children and 3 adults in Nashville…..

——
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man, or woman, in his or her time plays many parts,

His acts are seamless, as if floating in and out of reality.
So seamless that the playbook is now called life, and he really believes he can call the shots.

So seamless that she’s convinced of receiving that standing ovation in the final act, the one she has always craved.

So seamless that neither realizes, their parts are no longer their own, but a fragment of a pretentious whole, that’s new and and unfamiliar.

Sometimes he’s the parent fixing breakfast for the child before they both rush out with the Avengers backpack.

Sometimes she’s the one who takes the call from the school office, and has to sit down, to stop her hands from shaking uncontrollably.

Shock and grief are not mere moments of thunderous applause in this drama.
In this playbook, they are unscripted moments handed out last minute like the forgotten act,
…. as if a directorial afterthought.

Sometimes he’s a spouse , sometimes she’s a grandmother.
Their expressionless faces change faster, than the glitches in the old talkies.

Sometimes he’s a lover, sometimes she’s a victim.
The circumstances are crisp, and oh they role play beautifully.

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man or woman in his or her, time plays many parts,

And in each part, no matter how hard or easy,
every single actor,
in this glorious show,
has followed one theatrical workshop,
with unparalleled finesse.

Every man, woman, and child has mastered that one act, against all odds.

Smile … before that final curtain call.