St. John tells how, at Cana’s wedding-feast,
The water-pots poured wine in such amount
That by his sober count
There were a hundred gallons at the least.
It made no earhtly sense, unless to show
How whatsoever love elects to bless
Brims to sweet excess
That can without depletion overflow.
Which is to say that love sees is true;
That the world’s fullness is not made but found.
Life hungers to abound
And pour its plenty out for such as you.
Now, if your loves will lend an ear to mine,
I toast you both, good son and dear new daughter
May you not lack for water,
And may that water smack of Cana’s wine.
Richard Wilber, Poet Laureate of the United States 1987-1988