Poetry · Becoming
Transformation
Dear Calista
It is in the pursuit of you,
That I have grown in the likeness,
Of my beloved.
As I prostrate in the garden of my heart,
My soul was sorrowful even to death,
The weight of love was crushing me,
I asked God, if it be possible,
Let this cup pass from me.
Nevertheless…
not as I will,
but as you will.
My heart has betrayed me with a kiss.
My mind has denied me solace.
My body wont help me escape.
As the day and the hour draws near,
I began to sweat blood.
Sleep could not claim me.
I was scourged by our distance,
Every word you utter,
Without you in my arms,
Felt worse than 1,000 lashes.
Yet I still bore the cross of our love.
And as I am nailed to it,
I thank God with all my heart.
As death approaches me,
And darkness befalls me,
My eyes remain enamored,
By the beauty of your soul.
Even as my body freezes over,
Our memories keep me warm.
And in this suffering…
I begin to understand.
The essence of Love.
To give..
Not to take
To offer…
Not to hold
To be poured out fully.
For what is love,
if it does not bleed?
What is devotion,
if it does not endure?
I lift my eyes to God,
And into his hands,
I commit my spirit.
I commit…
To love you in this way.
And if death comes
And I am to depart,
let it be known—
that in loving you,
I was transformed.
Suffering · Sacrifice · Transformation
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