Wedding Bells
janine canan
Long ago I planted this love,
that rose into a towering tree.
It was you who raised the axe,
that chopped it down.
Now stubborn shoots
offer their sorrow
up to the searing light.
Our roots go deeper than existence.
In you I built
my heart's golden temple.
When you tore it out --
was it God or I who cried?
At last dying ends.
Triumphant, death arrives.
In grief's sunken cathedral,
our wedding bells chime:
Though you love a thousand others,
you will always be mine.
