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Isthmus
by Glenn Currier
Thirty-five
years of mornings
I've been awakened
from the slumbers of my separateness
by the song of our vows
and the Painted Bunting days
of our relationship.
Sometimes our marriage seemed
a filament about to vanish
in the storms of our anger and hurt
but, a tropical isthmus
between our two continents,
it has endured and flourished.
Some days I rattle along
lost in the labyrinth
of busyness and work
but then, in spite of myself,
I fall into our love
and lose my plans
in the depth
of you
and those beautiful brown eyes.
We may not be famous,
either of us alone,
but our marriage
is legend
in the book of love.
Golden are those moments
of decision
where we left the islands
of our angry resolve
to wander the risky road
of listening
and talked ourselves
back into the embrace
of our love
and the joy of rediscovering
the rich abyss
of our souls.
December 30, 2004 -
Dedicated to my wife, Helen, and our marriage on our 35th wedding anniversary.
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