Now: for the Sorins.

NOW
For the Sorins

   Shall the volcano wait until vows
   come lobbing out of the couple's mouth?

   Does duty dash forward from the hands being held
   lilting now over the Hawaiian wedding bowl? Love does

   a dove sifting across eternity to descend this shore,
   circles round fingers in a clutch of wet stems--

   on their shoulders heady blossoms
   scent their way home, the home their reservoir of stars.

   The island holds an island guitar, the strums make shores,
   the shore shuffles waves. Children, seize these

   replicating shapes, your parents welded hearts
   yielding Jordan, Oshun, Noah. Your eyes the size of souls.

   See the ceremony decree? Let the waves eat now.
   Lovers' condensing their befores as belief unpacks the clouds.

   On the beach, on the last day of sadness, the emptied out pail
   centers in the shafts of sunset, the sunset

   riffing off the liquid-shifted horizon,
   a line assembling words, and words, promises discharging the door.