I see Love
His face is marked in bloody lines.
His eyes are drenched in tears.
His lips are parched.
His cheeks are scarred.
His heart is crowned with thorns.

I approach the cross whereupon he hangs
His feet and hands nailed to the wood.

Creator of all good
Made a mockery.

The world does laugh, points and taunts.
“Come down!” they tease.
“Come down!”

But Love stays in his place.
Love stays there for them.

His heart open, beckoning them.
But they do not hear his pleas.
Or if they do, they do not care.

“Oh come rest in my heart,” he says.
But they remain in the darkness,
Cradled in Hatred’s hellish ways.

He looks toward me.
Like a leper does he appear
But still none is more beautiful than he.

I reach toward him; I touch his wounds
My fingers dance along the bloody nails
The tender flesh of Love.

“I thirst,” he cries
So I lift up my heart.

He takes me to him, breathes in me life.
My heart there rests, within his own.

And though thorns I feel
No happiness can compare
To living in the heart of Love