The Wedding

Out the window, frozen dreams,
against a bleak sky.
Icy fingers reaching down in rows, along the gutters.
Silvery white world
branches hanging heavy
dipping down to touch the Earth.


All the way from Mexico,
bride and Groom from atop our wedding cake,
standing arm and arm on the windowsill.
Eight years past,
worn faces, hands,
they still stand
against a dripping window.
Frozen dreams,
frozen world outside.


We were children then,
colorful dreams swirling around us
as we ran arm in arm
through the dull, grey world.
They spun and jumped
dancing round our bodies,
when we laughed, we kissed, we embraced.


Remember the gazebo
where we were married,
edges of it's palm roof turning up in the breeze,
against a vibrant turquoise sea.
On the wild side of the Island,
miles and miles down a long dirt road,
sharks infested waters.


From atop the lighthouse
we counted the iguanas hidden in the rocks below us.
You chased the biggest,
who turned his head and hissed angrily,
scurried off.


Inside mother Mary painted colorfully,
stood Fuchsia, Blue, Yellow.
Clutching her baby at breast.
Pink flower petals fell, softly, silently
with her tears, to the dusty ground.


Your eyes,
blue,
vast as the sea surrounding us,
seemed to hold in their mysterious depths
secrets.
An undiscovered world of promise, and passion,
thousands of creatures hidden in coral reefs.


We visited ruins in the days that followed,
massive rocks tumbled,
lay their defeated heads down
among the tall, bright grasses.
Echoes, ghosts of a once thriving ancient city.


At the entrance,
stood the remains of a shrine to the Goddess Ishtel,
Mother of fertility.
Mayan women traveled to place offerings,
at the threshold,
the sacred gates into the womb and safety of the city,
to pay homage to Ishtel,
in hopes of fertility.


Lost in the power of tradition,
Gripped by the strength held in the hot, humid air,
I placed a small yellow flower on the dusty, brown rocks.
Dreaming of the future
of holding to my breast
the infants that would would come from our union.


Stretched out like the wide open sky and sea surrounding the Island,
Our future lay awaiting
unwritten, untainted, free.


Time caught us,
froze our dreams.
Children born,
loved ones passed,
houses emptied and filled.


Winter set in with it's quiet beauty.


Your eyes grew dim,
colors washed away.
My arms grew tired,
broken embrace.


Here we stand arm in arm,
worn faces, hands.
Like the fallen rocks,
of the ancient city.


In the ruins of our dreams.