for Rainier’ and Lia, wedding poem, August 27, 2016

Suppose this moment is simply going to be –

perfect –

with no prodding, no nurturing from us.

 

Like a small green sprout pushing against the rich, deep earth,

pushing to find sustenance,

to seek the sun, to rise, its tender stem finally breathing the air,

warming,

birthing,

from its longing to be whole.

 

Suppose this moment is like the moon,

the moon that dances across the sky

from nothing to crescent to full –

because that’s all it can do.

It’s the moon.

The moon will not be rushed…

we are only grateful witnesses to its light, and shadows.

 

Suppose this moment is simply going to be –

like a child who grows in spite of prodding,

like a child who grows, at her own pace.

We watch, wait, celebrate the blossoming life.

 

Suppose this day,

this hour,

this moment

was meant to be, in perfect fullness, now!

 

Suppose this blossoming before us,

is a gift –

we, witnesses to this tender, complete love.

 

We are witnesses to this one holy moment.

—Mary Elyn Bahlert, 2016