I just got back from a beautiful wedding. Preston, the last of the Yorkshire boys, married Ali. The left the reception with the doxology and walked to take the metro to the hotel. How sweet is that? Here's to you guys (and thanks jesse for putting me on to this poem):
Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
and in that opening a house, an orchard and garden,
comfortable shades, and flowers
red and yellow in the sun, a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark, its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.
-W.Berry
~*~
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