An Invisible Sense of Connection

The weather forecast called for thunder storms.

An ominous beginning for an outdoor nuptial ceremony.

Dawn emerges with light showers.

By mid-morning, light bursts through a rift in the

clouds.

Patches of puddles mirror blue.

White chairs align neatly on a lush lawn of green

facing grape vines in a cultivated field of monochrome

brown.

A north wind picks up at dusk, prickling the skin of

hula dancers, urging flight of polyester skirts.

Sweaters and light jackets layer over Aloha wear.

Smiling playfully, the pastor remarks,

“Hawaiians believed that wind during a wedding

signaled the attendance of deceased loved ones.”

Talk story

Leave one comment for An Invisible Sense of Connection

This website uses cookies to offer you a better browsing experience. By browsing this website, you agree to its use of cookies.