It started in a church,
the living and the laughing.
Sorrow came in on Wednesday
and sat by itself.
Life has pillows and rocks.
In the beginning the knees are sturdy.
Then prayers are said,
sitting back to relieve the pain.
Yesterday sorrow descended.
Between laughter and tears
living clutched my hand.
We came to the silence of the church
with only ourselves in the pew.
There is an echo in the church.
An echo in ourselves when we speak.
No one can tell how long time goes on.
But you come to a city
and there are centennials,
anniversaries, birthdays and wakes.
Markers between you
and the altar of your faith.
That was what was going on in my mind.
What now is a part of my sleeping
and waking.
When an anniversary comes
like this,
celebrating love and life
with a woman
I love more than life itself,
it’s a story
I am unable to tell
for all its mystery and beauty,
except to say,
it started in a church.