t h e w e d d i n g v e i l

you brought me here that i might love you
and not that i should please myself
but that you should please me
and i would delight in your light
until this moment i knew that
if i walked, dusty footed to calvary,
proof of a love i had not felt,
then after they peeled me from a weary cross
and well after this weary life
you would reward me
not with the sight of love
but with the love

but the love is now
now the possession, and from the corner
of my eye the procession of torch bearers
and sweet singers
water lingers in the bottom of baptism jars
before its transformed to sweet and heady wine
and this is the time of song and sense,
desire deep as well, water washing out all hells
that fired every mind, burnt every foot that
traveled on this road to the wedding
you should have called you kiss a chuppah,
you should have called your arms a sukkah
descending, burning with seraph fire,
lift the veil