Marriage--a Bond

She sat and sobbed there, my bride,
Her henna-layered hands crossed upon her knee.
Tears dotted her sweet, childish cheeks,
Leaving trails of black from her kajol-lined eyes,
Anklets chiming to a sweet tuneless beat.

And as I sat there admiring her beauty,
I could but comprehend the sorrow she felt.
Years of childish pranks and innocent joy
Yanked away by a single sacred thread of bondage,
Bonded by duty, like a lamb led to the slaughter.

I placed her little hands upon my chest.
She looked at me but for a second,
Her eyes drifting down, the sobs ceasing.
I lifted up her chin, raising her eyes to mine,
Took her into my arms and held her, my wife, my love.


Chinchu Ann Belarmin

Copyright ©2004 Chinchu Ann Belarmin