Weave with precious threads rounded walls, Unraveled from various fabrics, Wedding gown, suits, maternity clothes, barongs, Neckties, favorite shirts, ripped blue jeans, funeral attire. Fill woven cup with soft flannel, Cut from well-washed baby blankets and elders' crocheted throws, Topped with wooly lambskin meant for lining Swedish baby buggies, Nestling in other comforts left-over from past years, Favorite plush toys missing ears, eyes, Bird feather fluff found on family hikes, Pieces of fleece, flannel, silk scarf, and sweatshirt worn thin. Bit by bit we build a nest between us, Into which we welcome our beloved children and grandchild one by one, Some home, in-between, partnered, Engaged, married, parenting, All with their own hopes and dreams, Yet still needing a place to land in relationship to us. Gather into our nest other beloveds, Some alive, some gone before us, Mothers, fathers, in-laws, siblings, Youth's loves, wife, husband, First love from time after life falls apart. Settle all into our nest, Along with hearts' unhealed pains colliding with fears of loving again, As arms stretch out surrounding nest lifting it's heaviness, Heads bent in watchful lingerings, Before lifting eyes to stare into the other's Small tears of acceptance, gratitude, joy, amazement, and courage, Slide into our growing nested circle. Move then with clumsy care, Carrying nest's expanse between us, Arms reaching farther into each other, Holding love and loves together for the next part of forever, Until parted by time moving into death, For now loving our nest, each other, our us built around this shelter, Raised for past, present, and come what may.
Written during the Paschal Triduum (The Three Days) of 2019. Read in celebration on December 28, 2021 while proclaiming my covenant of marriage with Forrest T. Meyer.