Wednesday, September 29, 2010

They're Mettenbaumed!

Pat and Katie. Katie and P. Met. Kat and Patie.

They That Are Now Baumrinked moved me with the words they choose for their wedding ceremony:

I take you to be no other than yourself…

loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not yet know…

with respect for your integrity and with faith in your love for me…

through all of our years and in all that life may bring us

I offer this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion…


Let it always be a reminder of my vows to you.

And then there were the poems:

“Nearing Magdalena”
by Jane Candia Coleman
read by Marisol

We are moving through the open spaces now,
great, gaunt plains scarred by raven’s wings,
mountains, naked as hearts.
We are no one here,
yet we touch carefully
knowing freedom is deceptive as sunlight.

Like shadows we lean towards one another
then away, learning our hungers,
keeping them still
until touch is bearable.
Until you can put out your hand
and I can fold round you
like a glove.

“The Journey”
by David Whyte
read by Tre C

Above the mountains
The geese turn into
the light again

painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.

Sometimes everything
has to be
inscribed across
the heavens

so you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.

Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that

small, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.

Sometimes with
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire
has gone out

someone has written
something new
in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving
you are arriving.

“Prayer For A Marriage”
by Steve Scafidi
read by Stoddard

When we are old one night and the moon
arcs over the house like an antique
China saucer and the teacup sun

follows somewhere far behind
I hope the stars deepen to a shine
so bright you could read by it

if you liked and the sadnesses
we will have known go away
for a while—in this hour or two

before sleep—and that we kiss
standing in the kitchen not fighting
gravity so much as embodying

its sweet force, and I hope we kiss
like we do today knowing so much
good is said in this primitive tongue

from the wild first surprising ones
to the lower dizzy ten thousand
infinitely slower ones—and I hope

while we stand there in the kitchen
making tea and kissing, the whistle
of the teapot wakes the neighbors.

It was an honor to bear witness to such beauty.

While we're on the subject, let's all bear witness to this marvel from Pascal's bachelor party:

Dang, but they look fine!

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