For you have said: love is built to last forever.
Caress me into long life; life is long,
if we’re to rise from swallowtail and thorn,
green ivy and a muddy tolerance for death.
Caress the ribs where solitude
is born. Eternity turns days into something
else: new skin for our elusive shadows;
a cut-rose blooming on; a timeless piano,
songs for a different hour...
Don’t you see? Our house will yield, yet
shield our first embrace; the walls will laugh,
when wishes fall silent; in time, we’ll decorate
a place. Always.
And, when we lift our rings, out of a ritual
burial, we’ll bite the glint, the gold;
still ours, this mode of permanence in stone—
now naked, now heaven kissed.
Mark A. Noll
On Death in December
A Deliberately Spiritual Thing
The Shape of a New Era: Valparaiso's Chapel of the Resurrection in
Suffering Unto Salvation in Wendell Berry's Jayber Crow
Martha Greene Eads
In Thy Light
O. P. Kretzmann
Love and Marriage: A Wedding Sermon
Creativity and Creation: A Lutheran Context for the Arts
Martin E. Marty
Beauty and Justice