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Literature Text
There was still enough light from
the raging fires outside to bless the alter where I waited
with our rings,
lilies-of-the-valley still braided into my hair.
The priest rests in his Lord's embrace,
garbed in crimson threads at the cathedral's gateway,
Nazi bullets in his body and in his Bible.
Our wedding banners are piles of chared ash
blessed by the coming lightning war.
The holy water has dried up, but my tears
still have not.
You said you'd come back, that you'd be mine,
to have and to hold
'til the bitter flames of death should tear us
apart.
But never did I get to hold you again,
to waltz with you in our first night of matrimony,
to watch the sun rise over the Meuse when
the rays came to bless our first
day as a single, perfect soul.
I'll stay here at the alter of St. Lawrence,
praying for you to come back
and leave your weapon at the door.
Though the ceiling may crumble and
the pipe organ collapse with a mighty
roar, they cannot hurt me now.
They cannot touch us ever again.
"It's finally our day,
the 14th," I'll cry through reddening eyes,
"Not even the cruelist demons
in hell can halt our happiness now."
Just a quick piece about a figmanted couple-to-be on the day of the Rotterdam Blitz, 14 May, 1940. I can't really say where this came from, just a prompt from a friend to write about a wedding. It just wouldn't be me if it didn't have a bittersweet twist to it.
St. Lawrence Church, just of note, was one of the few buildings still standing after the Blitz. The woman chose not to pass on until she were reunited with her doomed soldier husband there, where they were to turn two into one. It's a bittersweet tale of how love always conquers, even the abyss of death.
St. Lawrence Church, just of note, was one of the few buildings still standing after the Blitz. The woman chose not to pass on until she were reunited with her doomed soldier husband there, where they were to turn two into one. It's a bittersweet tale of how love always conquers, even the abyss of death.
© 2013 - 2024 Sparks-Fly-Upward
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