~
in the seasonal divisions of life,
is one equation most oblique;
the only ’rithmetic i know,
where sum of two in equal parts,
as one and one makes two a whole;
yet even more is this unique,
for ’tis the after-math and struggle,
the dance of life that matters most;
the after-candles, songs and marches,
the after-promises and vows,
after-gifts and floral arches,
after-dancing, cake, and toasts;
when gritty feet meet dusty road,
where those content to sit, jump out,
and those who chose the work, dig in,
here is where the after-math begins.
where spoken word and actions,
the blend of individualities,
smelting of their personalities,
when lovely couple’s faces,
no longer picture-perfect,
where smiles frozen turn to icy stares;
when agreement turns to disagreement,
and enchantment, disenchantment;
when to each the other is,
persona non grata...
a most unwelcome sum;
persona incognito...
hidden truth to everyone;
persona invisibilia...
game of hide and seek;
persona silentium...
"you can’t make me speak!"
yet all of this could just as easily be,
the sum of two,
grateful hearts in equal parts,
the beat of two in rhythm thrum,
march in time upon one drum;
where stumbling toes find eager feet;
back-handed words are gently turned, to
two-hands-to-back, a press,
on tiptoe, a softened kiss;
where hard-pressed, unkind learnings
are equal matched with kind forgivings.
e pluribus unum...
building block for nation,
works beautiful for couples, too!
’tis the only one i know,
defies the odds to work,
defines how two can grow,
turns tear-filled words to fireworks,
makes winning out of winters cold;
turns wincing into cinching,
knots that is, joined and tightly tied,
before two hearts have grown too old;
this then here, the after math,
a two-cords-tied-as-one accord,
blending melody with harmony,
production of a music-making,
ovation-worthy, heartbeat song;
a two-in-one, two-for-one,
two-as-one with rich reward;
sum of love for lifetime lasts,
perfect kind of after-math!
~
*post script.
a wedding this week came and went, but left this minder in its wake, hard beating in this mind as my body woke, begging for words in ink, pleading to be let out. in marriage, my own is far from perfection, as am i, yet as close to heaven as i have known here on earth. do believe that i know that it cannot be just one; but takes two hearts, two wanting, two hoping, and two forgiving, to make one that lasts!
she is by far the more so in ours.
