The Country of Marriage

Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing

and in that opening a house,

an orchard and a garden,

comfortable shades, and flowers

red and yellow in the sun, a pattern

made in the light for the light to return to.

The forest is mostly dark, its ways

to be made anew day after day, the dark

richer than the light and more blessed

provided we stay brave

enough to keep on going in.

How many times have I come into you out of my

head

with joy, if ever a man was,

for to approach you I have given up the light

and all directions.  I come to you

lost, wholly trusting as a man who goes

into the forest unarmed.  It is as though I descend

slowly earthward out of the air.  I rest in peace

in you, when I arrive at last.

-Excerpt from "The Country of Marriage" by Wendell Berry

I found this poem in Berry's collection with the same name while we were exploring Powell's Books in Portland.  It was one of those poetry reading experiences that made me gasp a little with joy, because someone had found the right manipulation of words to describe something I figured I'd never be able to explain.  I showed it to Daniel, and he agreed.  It'll always be a special poem to me, our honeymoon poem, and I'm sure I'll grow to understand it more and in new ways as our marriage grows older. 

Making myself vulnerable to Daniel in moments of intimacy, physical or emotional, means leaving myself and everything else behind for that moment.  Marriage asks him to "go into the forest unarmed," as well.

To be loved like that, you guys, is well worth the wait.  

And then to think that my experience with intimacy is only a simplified, imperfect picture of how much the Lord loves me--well, goodness GRACIOUS.


-J