On this day,
this holy day,
there is sweetness,
and blessing,
and love
Beyond measure,
Without end.
On this day,
this holy day,
there is created
a canopy of heaven
and sweet grass
upon which we stand -
You, who carries
the breath of God,
And I, to stand
beside you.
On this day,
this holy day,
I will bind me to you
And you to me.
Seven times bound,
to sanctify,
to celebrate
the becoming of one.
This day,
this holy day,
I bind my hands to yours.
And I will know light,
even in darkness,
In your touch,
gentle
and liquid,
like fire
or silk,
Bound together
in the ever
for always.
This day,
This holy day,
I bind my heart to yours,
To beat out
the rhythms of our lives.
This simple rhythm,
now synchopated;
Textured,
Cadenced by joy
that lives in
each beat and
Breath.
This day,
this holy day,
I bind my love to yours.
I feel the weight of it
settle, like cloth of gold.
And I am lifted,
and I find
Ease
and rest
and I am whole.
I bind my days to yours,
To the endlessness of
Time, and
Need, and
Tender
Aching
Want.
I bind my life
Within the bounds of yours
And there will I dwell
And know love.
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
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