"In the resurrection, Master, whose wife will she be?"

And Jesus answered "No one`s wife."
For in the afterlife you become
Like angels. And I thought
"Pure Spirit" as I touched her
Standing next to me,
"Without body or gender,
Consciousness without sex"

We looked at each other,
Still standing,
She smiled and I smiled back,
No longer hearing the priest read,
I leaned to whisper,
Smelling her hair
As I moved my lips
Toward her ear:
"In the resurrection, I`ll be
Your husband still. . . I promise."

The Wedding Poem
For Terra
by Doug Tanoury

Time upon a once I do now recall
In memory rich with childhood wonder
The fairy tales read at bedtime
And prayers said at her bedside
Now I lay me down to rest
I hope your dreams are just the best

Heaven and hell are chambers of the heart
For when I am dead I will spend eternity
Strolling through summer afternoons
A little hand in mine as we walk
And talk quite casually of birds and trees
And bumblebees burrowing deep in blossoms

Awakening to absence that is her finding
The fullness of a wonderful womanhood
That is her finding now the meaning of mature love
And living her days in a happy place of her own making
That is crafted by her own choices and
Sustained by her own hands

I sing now no more in half whispers
My tenor rising just above the organ notes
The Kyrie and Agnus Dei
The Sanctus and Benedictus
My prayers of happiness are sung
For Latin is the language of heartfelt love

Walk once more with me down the nave
Toward the altar of this country church
Awash in the color of stained-glass light
My chest that rises and falls with each breath
Is a warehouse of fervent worship
As I walk with her toward her life

Latin Hymns
by Doug Tanoury

We share a hymnal at Sunday Mass
Shoulders rubbing, heads leaning
Together toward each other

Our eyes meet in "Panis Angelicus"
I touch her bare arm in "Jubilate Domino"
We smile through Latin hymns

And the slow dour notes of the organ
Lighten for a moment with the sound
Of her voice singing soft and fragile

God the almighty lives at
That instant in the sweetness
Of words sung in her whisper

And I am filled with prayers of thanksgiving
For that Eve and this Adam
In the Eden of touch

And I must tell you now
For you should know that
Memories return to me now
And pass through consciousness
Like flocks of starlings
That mass together in large numbers
And fly across the skies in late August
Patterned and syncopated
In choreographed formations
And sometimes too they come
Alone and solitary
Like a lone gold finch perched
Upon a farthest extremity
Of a pine branch
Held aloft in sacred benediction
In holy elevation
To celebrate a moment
And capture
As this poem for you
Feelings that fly aerial acrobatics
And sing unbounded joy

The priest read the gospel and we stood
Together in the pew listening to the
Story of the widow who married seven brothers
And the riddle put to Jesus:

"In the resurrection, Master, whose wife will she be?"

And Jesus answered "No one`s wife."
For in the afterlife you become
Like angels. And I thought
"Pure Spirit" as I touched her
Standing next to me,
"Without body or gender,
Consciousness without sex"

We looked at each other,
Still standing,
She smiled and I smiled back,
No longer hearing the priest read,
I leaned to whisper,
Smelling her hair
As I moved my lips
Toward her ear:
"In the resurrection, I`ll be
Your husband still. . . I promise."

In bed on Sunday morning,
She runs her big toe lazily
Up and down my naked calf
Leaving thin white lines
Where her toenail meets my skin.
She says she loves me, and I say
My heart is a trailer park
Crowded with feelings for her.
She asks innocently,
"Lots of feelings?"

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