Tuesday, July 29, 2014

The bat of an eyelash

It was so all very subtle.  The magical moment might have been missed.  My niece got married Saturday to a great guy.  They are an extremely nice young couple, smart, savvy, full of all life has to offer.  The wedding was in a beautiful Lake Tahoe, CA venue, outdoors on a gorgeous summer day in July.   Same day, twenty eight years after her parents got married, she tied the knot (literally) with the guy of her dreams.  The stuff romance was made of.
I loved that little girl since the moment I laid eyes on her and she hid behind the couch because she didn't want a babysitter, she wanted her mommy.  As I watched Trevor recite his vows to her, there was a moment suspended in time, her eyelashes fluttered.  In that moment, in the bat of an eyelash, everything changed.  I could see the commitment and love between the two and it was a thing of loving beauty to witness beyond comparison.  Everyone there could feel the shift, the change in relationship, the commitment between the two.  
Mr & Mrs
I wish all the best to these two wonderful people and to them I bestow the beauty, wisdom and humor in this Billy Collins poem. 


"You are the bread and the knife,
           The crystal goblet and the wine..."
                 -Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
 the crystal goblet and the wine.
 You are the dew on the morning grass
 and the burning wheel of the sun.
 You are the white apron of the baker,
 and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
 the plums on the counter,
 or the house of cards.
 And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
 There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
 maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
 but you are not even close
 to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
 that you are neither the boots in the corner
 nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
 speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
 that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
 the evening paper blowing down an alley
 and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
 and the blind woman's tea cup.
 But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
 You are still the bread and the knife.
 You will always be the bread and the knife,
 not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

Billy Collins

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