Wedding Fragments

A wedding is so big, so much,
you can't put your arms around it.
Afterwards,
your heart is filled
with a thousand fragments.

You will forget your sufferings,
remember them as waters that have passed away.
Your life, more radiant than the noonday,
will make a dawn of darkness.
Full of hope, you will live secure,
dwelling well and safely guarded.

The Hope Diamond
resides in the Smithsonian,
bearer of legend,
emblem of wealth.

The Hope Diamond
also rests lightly
on our daughter's finger,
symbol of engagement,
emblem of love.

Scripture speaks of
three great virtues:
faith, hope, and charity
and sometimes
the greatest of these is hope.

Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror;
but then we shall be seeing face to face.

Saturday before the wedding.
Dad badly injures his back
lifting turkeys and hams
at Costco.

Annie says that,
having already tried
to ruin him financially,
she's now trying
to kill him.

I hear my Beloved.
see how he comes
leaping on the mountains,
bounding over the hills.

Wednesday night
Michael's family comes to dinner
at our house.

Spaghetti and laughter,
Mohawk meets farm town,
Two families
tentatively coming together.

Sing Hallelujah to the Lord

Day before the wedding.
Much madness.
Gathered ivy,
rented candelabra.
Wedding rehearsal.

Musicians,
strangers a moment ago,
make sweet harmony.

"He is now to be among you
At the calling of your hearts
Rest assured this troubadour
Is acting on His part."

Annie and her Dad
practice walking down the aisle.
Suddenly,
none of the three of us
can speak.

"The union of your spirits here
Has caused Him to remain
For wherever two or more of you
Are gathered in His Name
There is love--"

The Big Day.
Nephew Rob reaches out
to shake a bridesmaid's hand,
trips and lands flat on his face.
"You don't have to fall for her
right away," somebody murmurs.

If I have all the eloquence of men or of angels,
but speak without love,
I am simply a gong booming or a cymbal clashing.
If I have the gift of prophecy,
understanding all the mysteries there are,
and knowing everything, and if I have faith in all its fullness,
to move mountains, but without love,
then I am nothing at all.

Photos at three,
wedding at eight,
candlelight and bagpipes.

Michael tells Annie
that he will love and cherish her
all the days of his life.
Her father’s eyes grow liquid.

When they ran out of wine,
since the wine provided for the wedding was all finished,
the mother of Jesus said to him,
"They have no wine."
Jesus said,
"Woman, why turn to me? My hour has not come yet."
His mother said to the servants,
"Do whatever he tells you."

At the reception
no one is serving punch
and gifts are left unattended.
Grandmother and friend
arrange the gifts,
mother seeks the appointed servers.
Soon all are satisfied.

Cake, coffee, and punch,
wine and champagne,
dancing and laughter.
Twinkling lights
reflected in hundreds of eyes.

People generally serve the best wine first,
and keep the cheaper sort till the guests
have had plenty to drink;
but you have kept the best wine till now.

Sunday morning
Father Gregory
gathers us at Mass
once more.
He talks about noticing the little things,
paying attention to life,
bothering to love.

We didn't think about it at the time,
but we spent the week
teaching each other
how to bother to love.