Effervescent Mirth & Brilliant Mundanity

He said when he saw me with 5 year old Freddie, shrieking with delight at scenes in Shrek, he knew he would have loved me if we had met when we two were 5.

This morning I had a ’how many ways do I love you’ moment as I felt my bubbly joy at driving my own agenda without drag or justification. He knows the muse is abroad, whatever language he might use for that single-minded double-Scorpio space I get into. I’ve been out on my bicycle in the early morning, cycled all over, in random spurts, curled up in sun-spots and read this book that is enthralling me, scribbled all over a napkin whilst drinking Fair Trade coffee in my favourite cup, filled up in Staff of Life, my favorite ’village’ store. This doesn’t happen every day, but today my early morning out-and-about took until well nigh noon! Now I’m back and hot-to-trot with my writing, and I do, including making myself a perfect-in-the-moment plate of food without missing a beat in my writing stream. He grins. His eyes twinkle. He knows I am on a roll. And I feel wholly held by how he holds me.

I did call for a ’medicine man’, even as I was surprised at how I was naming that. He is my medicine man. I treasure that my own dear godmother got to see him newly come to me, just before she died. She held his hand and spoke with a lucidity that had mostly eluded her in the throes of her dying; "My mother used to say," she said, firmly emphasizing each word into his eyes as she pressed his hand to the cadence of her voice, "when two cradles rock on opposite sides of the Earth, if those two are meant for each other, they will find their way." That was her blessing on our union and, 17 years on I can say, it is wholly worthy of that blessing.

Then there was our Double Wedding Day (shared with my childhood-joy sister and her man) at Featherstone Castle on the Scottish-English border: His (Italian-American) father, who was by then immersed in the cruel hand he had been dealt, slowly going blind with Diabetes, rallied on our Castle Wedding Day with all the presence of The Godfather(!) raised his glass and spoke the words that were finer to me than a 500 word speech; "To the New Kings & Queens of the Day!!"

Much more to say, but I will choose carefully how to show you all the colored ribbons of our weaving

*~*~*~*

Ryan always said "off to the salt mine" when he was leaving for work, so there came an original Valentine poem with a reference to that. Ten years into our marriage, the muse delivered this:

 

The bridge that spans  the worlds..

Fresh from the salt mine

here comes her valentine

alive & kicking (none the worse for wear)

Though these salty years were 10

and would’ve ground down lesser men

Still he rises like a newly spoken prayer

 

Still that twinkle in his eye

tells her nothing’s gone awry

Nothing’s broken, nothing’s lost and nothing’s dead

All awaits to be realized

not one dream has been down-sized

(just the odd balloon that turned out to be lead)

All the juggling torches lit

the motley fool is watching it

As the juggler juggles fire sticks in the air

And we know one end is hot

and we know the other’s not

Which end to hold?  You know precisely where!

 

You have sharpened all your skills

even while you took your spills

and the proof is in the pudding you will eat

mmmmmmmm..feel the color, close your eyes

taste this glorious surprise

It’s yours

and oh oh oh so indescribably sweet!

By the way......

...the crotch is still the shore

and you both know what it is for

beyond what anyone has lately said

Enter In~~to Mystery

Out~~~reach through this real ’turnkey’

Through being One and being Well & Truly Wed…

 
Congratulations..on all scores! Summer Solstice 2001

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Marriage Basket poem was an inspiration distillation that happened in our little earthquake cottage in San Francisco in the days preceding our Half Moon Bay public wedding celebration. The experience is indescribably sweet when a poem ’downloads’ in this way. I guess a prerequisite is just Being, being in the zone; everything flowing, everything aligned. The poem fairly spilled out of me. And as I sat in the after-reverie, always astonished and delighted at what has arrived, there came a knock at the door. A man was standing there holding a big white box be-decked with ribbon and bow: "Hi", he said "My name’s Lawrence. You must be Corrina. I am an old friend of Ryan’s and I’m very sorry I can’t be with you for your wedding celebration but I wanted to bring this gift..." A few kind words exchanged, and he was gone. I waited until evening to open the gift with Ryan. Inside the box, inside the layers of white tissue, there lay nestled the most beautiful Native American Indian Marriage Basket. My heart missed a beat.

 

The Marriage Basket

A marriage basket is woven with many strands
It takes a thousand hearts and twice as many hands
No two people come together by their strength alone
No one arrives but has been softly shown
This is of love and this is not
And these the precious gifts you’ve got
And this the candle held to light your way
and the only pace to be is Here..Today

 Through every act of love these gifts are shared
by all of us and anyone who ever dared
to speak and act and live from their heart place
imbuing their divinity with natural grace.

 Through each other’s eyes touch and be touched
May each full turning of the annual round be such
That you break free of all that does not serve
that love floods every cell, sinew and nerve

 For everything to which you both aspire
all high and holy dreams deep heart’s desire
All these and more come not by chance
but only as you dare to dance the spiral dance

 We carve anew the tenets of a spouse to spouse
sweet holy matrimony born into the house
where all of who we are is welcomed in
Where kindred meet heart body mind & soul...& skin... 

This Being stand before you now
bless this the one who led you to your marriage vow
bless this the one you ’spied, this one you found
’beauty beheld beauty and was spellbound’

 In heavy density we all do tread
in body gravity, betimes with feet of lead
and yet you may tread lightly by the love you weave
levity is summoned when you dare to breathe...

 Breathe….deep...life....joy...truth in-hale
breathe deep soul freedom mirror dance..ex-hale
heart as transformer has the power to break
all habits we would leave for dear life’s sake.

 Love, Corrina Cop Rain (the elf)

So the Marriage Basket Poem has served for couples now beyond us two, always treasured, always a wondrous reminder of how full and rich and endlessing renewable our connections are.

 "All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love
And feed this sacred flame."

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772-1834 (Love - 1799)

*~*~*~*~*~*

It happens all the time in heaven,
And some day

 It will begín to Happen
Again on earth -

 That men and women who are married,
And men and men who are
Lovers,

 And women and women
Who give each other Light,
Often will get down on their knees
And while so tenderly
Holding their lover’s hand,
And with tears in their eyes,
Will sincerely speak, saying,

 "My dear,
How can I be more loving to you;
How can I be more Kind?"

 HAFIZ

*~*~*~*~*~*