Sing it anyhow, I said, when my daughter
quibbled it just wasn’t seemly
for a wedding. I, the bride, if an old one,
and my groom, no younger, relished
the valley of love and delight, had grasped
gifts of being simple and free, found
them worth singing about. No matter
she could belt out “Ave Maria” without
rehearsal time. We knew the Shakers
told it true, at least about the place
just right. We couldn’t buy the celibacy,
but oh, the tune, the melody. The music’s
trek, England to Maine, Copland to Ma,
Graham’s ballet, Crane’s poem, Krauss’s vocals,
all those variations mirrored our own long
separate journeys to simplicity, where
by turning we’d come round right. Sing it!