Epithalamion

We mark the days that tell us who we are,
staccato days that give our lives their form,
this wedding day, when happy hearts and warm
are joined beneath July’s auspicious star.

Count them, the golden days of greatest joy
holding the hope of children yet unborn
and, knowing there will be days enough to mourn
the loss life brings, now celebrate the boy

become a man and come at last this hour:
the lovely bride before the bridal bower,
their family and friends, all smiles, embrace
love writ so large that time cannot efface
this silver night’s unbridled happiness.
There will be but a few as bright as this.

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

Why Women Cannot Be Deacons

James Keating

Much has recently been written about the possibility of the Church sacramentally ordaining women to the diaconate.…

What Protestants Get Wrong About the Epistle to the Hebrews

Peter J. Leithart

The Epistle to the Hebrews proclaims the superiority of the new to the old, the second to…

Mind the Gap

Kit Wilson

I grew up in a religiously sympathetic, if not always actively practicing, household. During my toddler years, my…