To marry is the highest call,
A rainbow in the rear-view mirror
When roads are easing west towards night –
The vault leaps from rock to skylights,
Stairwells, doors, lace windows in Bryce –
And then came that peak of summer,
When you caught the northbound bus
That took you south to Proper Nouns. 8
To wed is the kindest summons,
A prism in the zoom-eyed camera
As angles focus in granite –
The horizon builds chromograms,
Clear paths to the Catalinas –
And when the kaleidoscope paused,
You felt the bevelled beings shine
Who brought your mother home from time. 16
To betroth is the quiet “yes” –
Creosote breathes shir yedidot
Ocotilla shows her bright nails –
Saguaro shades the cottontails –
Your architect drafts garden plans –
And as the trail climbs to Eden,
You learn to sing with morning doves. 23
(Provo, Utah, 10 May 1998)
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