I wept on the way, O Lord.
Gratitude overwhelmed me,
For I had, at last,
Found my way.

Bending to me,
Your inclination
Gave me courage.
My garments were not pretty,
For a King to gaze upon,
But You saw only me,
Your creature in need.

I stirred Your Passion,
For it was for me
That You searched,
Despite my dishevelment,
You recognized Your Image
Stamped in my being.

You clutched me to Your bosom,
Covered me with Your mantle.
And carried me to the Inn Keeper.

In Your Church,
The treasures You deposited,
Ministered to my wounds.
Deep and resistant,
As the lesions were,
They yielded,
As I lingered long,
In the bed of my sorrow,
Beholding the cause
For my joy.

Your Way is all about me,
Though narrow,
So as to thread
The eye of a needle,
It is like Your broad Smile.

Graced virtue, Your gift,
Accompany me.
The world is as the meadows
Surrounding Your dwelling among men.

Flowers, in due season,
Spring up in my soul,
And fruit, You wait for,
Following the budding
Of my prayer,
Will be rich for Your taking.

I am the love you seek,
And the Love You,
From the beginning,
Have given.
For it is
In Your nature to Love
And in my nature
To be loved.
This is Your Way, my Love.
This is the Way I choose.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved