The Bride That Hasn’t Been

Life of jewelry stores, David’s Bridal, florists, balloons, bouquets, printers for invitations,

Bakeries with tiered wedding cakes, models of bride & groom atop.

Invitations of others, personal changes, big spiritual reawakening,

Pilgrimages to Holy Sites all over world, heaping blessings showing the Lord’s favor,

Likely because of sacrifice.

 

Serving elders, now all gone. Parents, aunts, uncles. Later friends as family

Chosen because now an orphan, no offspring, health and strength partially compromised.

Aging, overweight, yet rich in blessing and still sacrificing.

Prayer leads me down the road not taken, which has made all the difference (Robert

Frost, 1916). The less traveled road is one of both sublime solitude and also

Unbearable loss.

 

For my heart holds a large secret which I keep because it serves the greater good of my community,

Even while it robs me of my life force, like an hourglass dripping sand, inexorably.

When I die, the secret will be revealed, for I am a writer.

 

My secret may break some hearts, but I am prepared to keep mum

Because there can be no interference with God’s will.

Thy will be done; for this, we pray…

 

For the love of a lifetime needs to be reciprocal

And my dreams reveal only one.

Several futures hinge on my never achieving the Bridehood…

 

Even though the windows shatter my soul daily

The windows of what can never be—

Me in a lace, pearl wedding gown gazing into the face of The One.

 

(A true epitaph, because I will die before I achieve union with my true love. It is doomed.)

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