Song of the Wedded

Song of the Wedded

You scribe
the compass
of her hips
and find truth,
hand to bone,
mouth to surrender,
blood to blood.
Hers is the way
your father knew
but lost
in the world
of men,
the path
in the mountains
that leads
by flowing water.
Honor
her body
with yours,
breast to breast,
all your days,
yielding
to the song
that women sing
in the greening
of all things.

© Jude Dippold, 2014

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