Love that is pain, the unspeakable
joy of the heart, a transformation
and here in this world cruel of men,
it is to love that is 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 sweeter the water
deeper the well, dug into the earth
where walked the prophets;
But we can die a hundred times on the cross,
for there is no love that does not heal, and
blessed 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 we contemplate tonight.
an Easter poem - its traditional for me, some of my meaningfully deepest poems are written at this time of the year...
There is a night to reflect on
as there is a day to celebrate it:
The reference is to Mark: 12:28-31, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+12%3A28-31&version=KJV
edited: 9/4/20