A Wedding In the Garden

*photo credit

There is going to be a wedding in the garden
this morning,

Mother Earth, the patient bride,

awaiting fickle Sky-groom,

fair-weather friend.

He is dawdling,

arranging his clouds just so,

to look his best.

He can be seen casting glances

at neighboring planets.

The groomsmen look at each other

and shake their heads.

The bride is resplendent in her grass-green gown,

dotted with magenta rhododendrons.

 Her cascading waterfall tresses
roll bountifully down,
and an exaltation of skylarks
cavort about her head and shoulders,
joyously singing.

Birds just love a good wedding.

Wild bunnies peep, big-eyed, 
from under the floral garlands.
A mama deer and her fawn attend
but at a distance, out in the pasture.

The bride's attendants are covered

with pink and purple blossoms.

The trees stand tall in their tuxedos,

sporting a carnation in every lapel.
From every bough,

a collective of assorted yard birds 
warble a clarion call
to the assembled guests~

joy on a summer morning.

Sunflowers and weeping willow

line the aisle with splendor.

Mother Earth approaches,
carrying  pink luscious peonies,

smiling a tremulous smile,

faintly tinged with tears.

She is softened and sweet,
 with an attitude 
of wistful hopefulness

against the inner fear
she does not wish to see:

her groom is changeable,
can burn or freeze her at will.
Nevertheless,
she is dressed in her best,
lets her heart do the rest.
She steps forth with head held high,
into the moment.

The only time for love,
my friends,

is Now. 

Happy Solstice, kids! Mother Earth is putting on a wedding of blooms and beauty this summer morning, just for us. Drink it all in. I am posting this for Poets United's Poetry Pantry, where there is always a rich feast of poetry on Sunday mornings.