“The tie between us is very fine, but a Hair never dissolves.” ~ Emily Dickinson
In the ceremony, the bride and groom tie identical red bracelets around each other’s wrists then trace a circle around the fire. It’s petal-strewn and everything is so brilliantly outlined in henna and in gold. Somewhere a cymbal bleats its wild and coppery refrain, and water passes through a hundred flutes of wine. We’ll raise our questions to a higher significance then grind them underfoot. Why does love walk so slowly? Why does it wind around and upon itself? Someday we will forget where silence goes in the midst of clamor and noise.