The Bride and the Moment of Truth

This can be seen as a sequel of sorts to this poem from September of 2011. I was asked what inspired it, but I can’t really say simply because I don’t really know. It just kind of came to me and proceeded to prod at my brain for couple of days until I finally wrote it. If I had to give specific things that inspired it, I’d have to say Christian culture, modern feminism and meditation.

This is “The Bride and the Moment of Truth.”

How can a snow white bride be weak
In an era of strong women?
How can she be so wholly ill
In the era of pink ribbons?

It’s by choice that she alienates
Herself from the others who live
In strength, charisma and at peace—
Who have something, when asked, to give.

Her husband is daily abused
By men for offering new life,
But she just shrugs and laughs it off
And pretends that she’s not his wife.

They bind his legs and shatter his arms.
They bash his head and they kick him.
She stands passively—does nothing
But prepare a funeral hymn.

“Just turn the other cheek,” she says,
As though he has another choice.
Words of love, joy, peace and kindness
To the cruel men she gives no voice.

It’s by choice that the bride is weak
And cradles not his bleeding head,
Standing by idly to the side
Lest her white gown be stained dark red.




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