The Song of the Growing Bond

Who would dare weave the thread without gazing into the shadows?

Who will bind hands without asking the wind of its turning?

A true bond is not forged between only two.

What is sown in spring shall not be harvested in spring.

The hearts and voices of many strengthen the union.

 

Hear me, I who whisper through the leaves, who dances between the roots:

 

Before you bind yourselves, test whether the ground will hold,

whether the winds will be kind to you.

Let a tree be witness and symbol of your union.

A tree, still young, not yet burdened by the weight of years.

A tree, that will withstand the storms of life with you.

 

Five verses of blessing you must whisper to it,

so that its leaves may carry the echo of your hope.

Praise the bond of two, extol it’s strength, lift above doubt.

For even a tree that hears only shadows will not reach for the sky.

 

Five warnings you must murmur to it,

so that its roots may learn what they must Faer.

Name the stones upon your shared path, the storms that threaten,

the doubt that grows like weeds in the cracks of time.

 

Five peaces of counsel you must offer it,

so that its trunk may stand firm when the winds test it.

Teach it endurance, teach it humility, teach it the worth of growth.

 

Yet words alone do not bind – let the voices of the world speak.

You must find five witnesses who wish for you to become one.

They shall speak from their hearts, of what they see in the two of you –

of love, of strength, of what shall remain when the morning dew has vanished.

 

When all these voices have spoken, when the tree holds them within,

then it will need water – but not just any.

 

Tears of joy must grace its roots,

not from those who bind themselves,

but from those who see the light in you.

For joy that suffices only itself fades into mist.

 

Tears of hope must nourish it,

from those who watch you and know that every path holds shadows.

For without hope, even the strongest tree takes root only in sand.

 

And finally – choose its place.

Not just anywhere, not a spot granted by chance.

Plant it in earth called good,

earth that tells of promises and paths that endure.

Upon points of power.

 

Then, when the night has embraced it, when the moon caresses it,

wait for what the morning brings, what the afternoon reveals.

If it grows, if it greens, if it blossoms – then your bond may share its breath.

If it withers, if its wood remains stiff and lifeless – then heed the sign.

 

For the roots of a bond reach deeper than the eye can see,

and those who ignore them will reap thorns where they expected roses.

 

Yet do not judge too swiftly. Do not judge too swiftly.

For what is sown in spring shall not be harvested in spring.

 

Should you still wish to bind yourselves in three days,

then you shall have my blessing.

All those who wish to join in union on the third day

shall receive the blessing of Spring.