The Tethers and The Loam(a poem for my cousin's wedding)

Love sets roots in the chest, cradles

the heart in a sinewy basket—

reaching up, the sinews

of our throat hold fast.

 

Most people consider the forest to be

a congregation of separate organisms, however,

in a very real way, this is a misconception.

 

The forest is its own organism. If, in some hidden corner,

a ground fire rolls through the undergrowth, the rest of the forest

sends nutrients, sends water through the roots, the body

reacts to a cut.

 

Love is the roots, the web of tethers

beneath the soil.

We are the forest, from the tallest canopies to

the youngest sprouts, we are the trees, the shrubs, the vines,

the churning tangle, the filament knot, the speck

of pollen,

the flung spark.

 

Love sets roots in love—

and like that

we wind ourselves together, like that—

we tumble forth

 

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I am going to read this during the ceremony, please help me