Poetry

The Bride and Groom
BJ Woodworth

suits and ties gathered like stilted statues
seated oh so linear lee
proper and distinguished
yet unable to relinquish…
Control
Holding the baton with bitter faces
Disinterest and tiredness
holding so tight
clenching their fists ready to fight
battling’ so long
they forgotten the race their on
so…
Casually I stroll
To the microphone
and groan on an on
about the bride and her groom
and the impending doom
for the marriage is on the rocks
the bride has forsaken her mission
seduced by others distorting her vision
creating division,
and the need for an incision
with laser precision
to correct her distorted vision

but the problem is worse
20/20 says the bride – I am fine
stumbling fumbling bumbling along
cracking her shins
bumped and bruised for lack of sight
lost and lonely in the dark
her beauty tarnished from injury
her purpose unfulfilled – leading to misery
her groom grieving longing for her to find her way
then one day…
she stumbles upon a blind guide
who helps her anguish subside
a medicine man says he
who compels broken eyes to see?
these vibrations once spoken
penetrate and shatter her denial
longing to regain her sight
wondering if she still has the will to fight
the shaman enters the room
to her dismay it’s her groom
she gasps for breath
almost near death ashamed
at her nakedness
longing to be invisible in her distress
but he speaks words of tenderness
he calms her with his presence
holds her as the healing begins
it is painful at first
then sweet, bitter sweet
her eyes begin to water
her vision is clearer
her groom near her
she sees she has a daughter
he speaks to her – let it go give it to her
the mantel is breaking under her clutch
the groom is patient and waits
with tears from the pain she relinquishes it
dropping to the floor
HE hands it to their daughter
Suddenly she sees clearly…

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