Thus we gather, all dressed in black,
our path illuminated by late summer light.
Together we stand, as our brother descends,
the eternal isle, a path with lights end.
Oblivion stands, only for those who flicker,
for he who succumbs, dust only withers.
As fire is dual, in fertility and death,
hope arises, the end is not yet met.
‘As from ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring.
Renewed shall be boy that was broken,
the groom is now proclaimed king’
(inspired by JRR Tolkien)
His purpose is met, in beauty and fruit,
the path he has chosen, is a crusaders pursuit.
For radiant is she, and luck unto him,
her grace now defines him, thank the heavens he’s in.
In union they now stand,
wrought by a knot.
Their chapters now merged,
and our penmanship they need not.
For bear witness do we,
to this kindling of love.
And never have we been more thankful,
to watch a candle take light.