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Today —
There is a night to reflect on,
As there is a day to celebrate it:
It is love that is pain,
The unspeakable joy
Of the heart of a revolution.

And here —
In this world of cruel men,
It is to love
That is meant to suffer.
And so when you love
with all your heart
with all your soul,
with all your mind
with all your strength.

So is the suffering —
Ever sweeter than the water
Deeper than the well,
Dug into the earth
Where the prophets walked.

But we can die
A hundred times on the Cross,
For there is no love
That does not heal death,
And sanctified is this sky
Under which such a thing as love
blooms.

Risen, we live
When in suffering, we die.
Loving such is the gospel of love
And so we contemplate tonight.