Tonight all I want is celebration
and my only dilemma
is where to start this ode:
perhaps Brahms or a waxing crescent,
but both are too common,
though in no way unimportant.
Availability is not a flaw,
for were it so, I would dismiss
both my flowers and the finches,
sins I could not be pardoned.
Tonight, though, I shall sing the rare,
a tale of two improbable people,
a contradiction in their geographies,
their meeting a pure accident
of a concert, a cathedral and a cat,
aided by an unwitting matchmaker.
making the miracle of Minnesota
joined to distant County Clare.
It became an encounter of light,
a glimmer of days they both saw,
which organized them not to wander,
but to firmly claim that ground
where some hope, hardly named,
persuaded them to go on
until they fell upon the joy
which might color two lives--
that wisely, they chose not to shun
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