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

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