A few nights ago storms drifted up from the central plains of Oklahoma, but they mostly missed us, so Karen and I relaxed on the back deck and stared east at a wall cloud, savoring a cool night in August. Although the rain missed us, we sat together and watched a light show like children seeing fireworks in the sky for the first time.
Brandon and Liz are getting married right over there, just over the fence to the southeast of the pool house. Weddings are hard work, in many ways, and we are both weary and barefoot. We propped our feet up on the hot tub cover and watched the majesty of a cluster of cumulonimbus seeming to hover over our pond, and yet they are fifty miles away. What is it about the heap of unchained lightning in the dense towering vertical cloud of instability that reminds me so much of life?
I can’t tell you what we talked about, but it was reverent and irreverent, all at once…and we both realized in that moment of natural awe, that we were both right where we wanted to be, together and still in love.
And I thought of a poem I had read recently about a summer night.
A summer night, and you, and paradise, So lovely and so full of grace,
Above your head, the universe has hung its lights,
And I reach out my hand to touch your face.
I believe in impulse, in all that is green,
Believe in the foolish vision that comes true,
Believe that all that is essential is unseen,
And for this lifetime I believe in you.
All of the lovers and the love they made:
Nothing that was between them was a mistake.
All that is done for love’s sake,
Is not wasted and will never fade.
O love that shines from every star,
Love reflected in the silver moon:
It is not here, but it’s not far.
Not yet, but it will be here soon.