Back in this holy space

I went to a wedding tonight. I was a witness, and a participant in the ceremony. It was a beautiful evening, filled with of laughter and so much happiness. (And cake. Really, really good cake.)

It was held in the same space where Mark and I were married, almost 22 years ago.

As a wedding gift to our friends, I wrote a poem and read it during the ceremony. My beloved was with me as I wrote, and went with me tonight up to the altar space. He is a good egg, to stay with me even now.

Here’s the poem. For him. For them. For me. For you.

Love
Takes out the garbage three nights in a row
And doesn’t boast about it.

(Well. Maybe a little.)

Love
Sits quietly in the passenger seat
And does not complain when the car veers onto the shoulder
Again.
Again?
Really, again?

Love
Does not let you leave the house
With a stain on your shirt or broccoli teeth or rogue chin hairs.

Love
Lets you pick the movie
Even though the last one you drug her to? Torture.

Love
Always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres
Except for that time, and that time –
And that one time,
When you were unlovable?

No, even then.

Blessed words and ways,
People and things, clocks and calendars and the best damn dog you ever had –
These things are finite.
Voices are stilled. Hearts cease.
Even memories fade.
And Love –

No. Even then.

Love. Even then.
Love.
Love.
Love.

tables

Winfrey Point, one of my sacred spaces

 

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About Vicki Caroline Cheatwood

Writerly. Rebooting. Evolving. Searching for great chicken salad.
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One Response to Back in this holy space

  1. kopana says:

    this is one of the most beautiful poems I’ve ever read. ❤

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