In the art of marriage the little things are the big things…

It is never being too old to hold hands.

It is remembering to say “I love you”, at least once each day.

It is never going to sleep angry.

It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives.

It is standing together facing the world.

It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family.

It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating

gratitude in thoughtful ways.

It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.

It is in giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow.

It is finding room for the things of the spirit.

It is finding room for the good and the beautiful.

It is not only marrying the right partner…

It is being the right partner.

 
Wilfred A. Peterson

~

Then said Almitra, “Speak to us of Love.”
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love
.

When Rabbi Nahman and Rabbi Isaac were about to part, Rabbi Nahman asked Rabbi Isaac to bless him.

Rabbi Isaac replied:”Let me tell you a parable. To what may this be compared? To a man who was traveling in the desert. He was hungry, tired and thirsty, when suddenly he came upon a tree whose fruits were sweet, its shade pleasant, and a stream of water was flowing beneath it.The man ate of the tree’s fruits, drank of the water and sat in the tree’s shade.

When he was about to continue his journey he turned to the tree and said Tree, o Tree, with what shall I bless you? Shall I say to you may your fruits be sweet? They are already sweet. That your shade be pleasant? It is already pleasant. That a stream of water flow by you? A stream of water already flows by you. Therefore, this is my blessing, “May it be God’s will that all the shoots planted from you be just like you”’.

 
“So it is with you” Rabbi Isaac said to Rabbi Nahman.

 
“With what shall I bless you? Shall I wish you Torah learning? You already have learning. Wealth? You already have wealth. Children? You already have children.

Therefore this is my blessing. May it be God’s will that your offspring will be like you”

I love you,
Not only for what you have made of yourself,
But for what you are making of me.

I love you for
the part of me that you bring out;
I love you for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart
And passing over all the foolish, weak things
that you can’t help dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out into the light
All the beautiful belongings
that no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern, but a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good,
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
being a friend means, after all.

I have not spared my eyes
Since I became a man
and yet I little thought that I would feel desire
for fingers sprayed with juice

Today I looked ahead
and sitting opposite
saw her select some fruit
and quickly pierce its skin
with a fine fingernail
how little it will seem
enclosed in memory
sharing that mandarin
(But two entire lives
turned on her fingertips)
Just sometimes when she speaks
across the table
content with claret, ham and cheese
her voice goes deep
and at that moment (and no other)
she could take my soul.

And sometimes when she tears
a hunk of bread
and soaks it in the olive oil
she does not speak
and at that moment (and no other)
she could take my soul

For ten seconds I fell
in love with you.
The first second we met.
You were buying recipes.
The second second we turned,
Taking pieces of each other out of our eyes.
The third second we held each other gently.
Your skin was a small kitten playing with a curtain.
The fourth second we kissed.

Front gates clicked against our fence.
In the fifth second we married.
Your dress was made of Nikau palm.
The sixth second we built a house beside a lake
It was never tidy and the grass was up to our knees.
The seventh second we argued:
About toothpaste and poetry
and who would put out the rubbish.
The eighth second we grew fat and happy
and laid on the ground after eating.

Your stomach wriggled with a round child.
In the ninth second we were old in the same garden
of the same house by the same lake in the same love.
The tenth second we said goodbye.
Your hand slipped away from mine but
seemed to me like something I could feel.
We passed again beside each other without turning
As though we had somehow only met at the checkout
counter of Whitcoulls bookstore in Hamilton
on a faintly blue September Tuesday.

First published in The Listener, 6 July 2002.

 
Allow no trace of jealousy to creep between you, for jealousy, like unto poison, vitiates the very essence of love. Let not the ephemeral incidents and accidents of this changeful life cause a rift between you. When differences present themselves, take counsel together in secret, lest others magnify a speck into a mountain. Harbour not in your hearts any grievance, but rather explain its nature to each other with such frankness and understanding that it will disappear, leaving no remembrance. Choose fellowship and amity and turn away from jealousy and hypocrisy.

 
Together make mention of noble aspirations and heavenly concepts. Let there be no secrets one from another. Make your home a haven of rest and peace. Be hospitable, and let the doors of your house be open to the faces of friends and strangers.

 
Live in such harmony that others may take your lives for an example and may say one to another: Look how they live like two doves in one nest, in perfect love, affinity and union. It is as though God had kneaded the very essence of their beings for the love of one another.

We honor the mystery and wonder in creation’s every breath

We praise human being; its yearning for tomorrow’s wine and for the taste of this morning’s bread.

We celebrate the divine energy that pours through our separate selves and makes us one.

We sing of these friends whose life renews itself in their communion of body and mind and heart.

We pray that like joy be found in earth’s four corners. Justice, freedom, laughter, truth; peace and love and hope – the human heritage at last become the human way.

We rejoice with our friends who now share the fruit that gladdens the heart.