“O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console…”  -St. Francis of Assisi

 

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Sometimes

loneliness

fills my heart, where You should be.

Why can’t I feel

You?

Heartbreak

is just a daily duty

which I can’t

overcome –

alone.

These days my only consolation

is thought after thought

of You.

These days

my constant isolation

is warmed by constant thoughts

of my Lamb’s blood –

sweat.

Agony

of the Garden.

I hardly call it coincidence

that the world lost You

and gained You

in a garden.

But these aches of mine

rouse me.

How can I complain

when You relive

day after day

the heartbreak

of the sinner?

We are lost

because we turn

the other way.

Panting like the deer, we disregard Your love.

While we suffer

through this

segregation,

Your love –

in passion,

in tenderness –

throbs

with every heartbeat

immeasurably more

painfully.

In stillness

and in littleness

the Garden gate lies open to me.

Let me enter on my knees

for the opening is small.

Let me suffer with You

and drink

Your Father’s cup.

I’ll take Your yoke

because You have always carried

mine.

This is how

I can console You.

 

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