This May, I will have been married 23 years. Over the years, I’ve written a number of poems for my wife. (Can you really be a poet without a few love poems lurking about? LOL).
When my wife and I were married, we chose to use the traditional vows. While these might seem hackneyed to some, they succinctly capture the fact that most of marriage happens after the wedding day. We don’t know what that will mean but commit to go through it together.
If the physical heart has anything to do with love, we know it needs periods of being taxed to be healthy. Healthy marriages go through times of strain—sometimes the most profound we’ll experience. But these build endurance and greater capacity to love.
This poem contrasts the bloody, muscular passion of marriage with the cheap glitz of Valentine’s Day accoutrements.
Valentines Day, 2017 After 18 years, our heart is no pink, sparkly decoration. It isn’t candy in a velvet box or “Be Mine” on cardia-shaped cardstock. Our heart paces its cage of bones; it pounds a drum and marches through the night; it gives blood but doesn’t keep it. “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, ‘til death do us part” This is our heart— the muscular center of life as we know it.