“We are clothed in poetry.”

White dresses cascading down the aisles of an Old Cathedral, twirling through alleys with vines climbing the walls , and the sun beaming through in small patches. Glory fills the streets. An old convent that was once a Château, saturated in prayer & stories— filled with bare feet & tutus. Music traipsing through the rooms & holding the listeners with a warm embrace. Vines crawling up walls & gardens becoming runways. All leading to an encore of piano & poem as The Bride walks towards her Bridegroom. We are clothed in poetry.