You have done well in the contest of madness.
You were brave in that holy war.
You have all the honourable wounds
of one who has tried to find love
where the beautiful bird does not drink.
May I speak to you
like we are close and locked away together?
Once I found a stray kitten
and I used to soak my fingers in warm milk;
it came to think I was five mothers
on one hand.
Wayfarer, why not rest your tired body?
Lean back and close your eyes….
Come morning, I will kneel by your side and feed you.
I will so gently spread open your mouth
and let you taste something of my sacred mind and life.
Surely there is something wrong with your ideas of God…
O, surely there is something wrong with your ideas of God…
if you think Our Beloved would not be so tender.