The Crucifix

How dirty and ragged you look; covered in blood, your back opened by lashes, your hand and feet pierced by nails, your face covered with dust and spittle , your hair matted with blood from the crown of thorns you wear.

But for those who love you Divine Spouse of my Soul, you reveal the radiant beauty of the Godhead itself that lies beneath the blood, sweat, dust and spittle; for those who love thee you grant eternal life itself.

Oh my beloved I grieve for the times have put you upon the Cross; I weep for the times I chose a fleeting passing forbidden pleasure over your supreme and infinite goodness! Why do you take us back? Why do you take back Spouses who routinely crucify the Bridegroom of their souls by choosing the devil over you? Why did you weep in the Garden over those who you knew would reject you? Why will you take back the wicked adulteress if she turns back to you?

Oh what Love, what love is this that is willing to forgive a thousand sins; the same love that allowed Magdalene to wash its feet with tears and dry it with her hair; the same Love that turned Saul into Paul, romanced a harlot and took her for thy Spouse.

For all you endured the Scourging, the Mocking, the Crucifixion yet so few turn to thee; even us who know thee turn away before turning back to thy love; a love that gave us a loving Mother and a rock-fast vicar, oh how we wish we could love thee as thou loves us; how we wish we could touch the sacred wounds by which we were redeemed, how I wish for you to hold me in your arms.

Come my beloved; hold me, console me, make me totally yours; deliver me from the world and its vanities, take me to where I may become a living sacrifice on your Altar, as you give yourself totally to me in your Body and Blood, let me give myself, my members and my soul totally to you.

My eyes rise from the Crucifix.