In this vale of tears – Love himself has spoken:
“Do not touch me.”
O King of my desires, Master of my love,
You who dashed my cheapest wasteful desires upon the sacred rock of Grace.
You who dragged me from the ocean depths and threw me onto the shore of Love, O God. My Lord, and My God.
Take my offering in this place.
O Ruler of longings urgent burnings,
Here is faith seeking understanding through feeling.
Here is romance wanting, thirsting, kneeling.
Here is love, vast as the ocean.
Do not touch me.
Instead, feed the innermost parts of my being.
From the soles of my aching feet, to the crown of my head.
Flesh on my flesh,
beating heart on my breast. Love me. You who loves lovingly as Love.
Let me feel the flesh that is rekindled anew –
for here, the touch of your garment can never be enough.
It is you I need – your flesh, your body, your open wounded meaty flesh.
To warm the coldness of my soul on your burning flame,
to feel the tingle of your resurrected embrace.
Here, it is touch that I need.
Only your touch will suffice.
As I prepared you for death, I need you to drench me in your perfumed potency, that I may live.
Hold me and let me weep out my love.
Let me empty the well of my emotion.
Let me show you loves true notion. Here. Now.
For it is you who taught me how to feel.
And now as I look upon your bleeding wounds,
it is you, that needs to be healed. Or so it seems.
Let me do for you what you have done in me.
Let me tend you. Let me bind you – pour wine on the bleeding, open parts of you – let me do for you, what you have done for me. Here. Now.
O Teacher, here kneeling, let me serve you.
Let me show you love through loves service.
Let me hold you, embrace you.
Let us complete what life has but begun, through you. with you. in you…
You have searched and inhabited the darkest parts of my soul,
You have seen the worst parts of my spiritual anatomy,
and yet you have loved me. You have shown me this grief as the final form of my love.
But now, I am lost and yet found…I have found that which I have been looking for with the lust that has driven me far and wide, the world around. Here. In the intimate emptiness of this quiet garden, where only you and I are found. Touch me.
together you step away,
and I am left with the coldness of your hard and pregnant rebuke “noli me tangere”…the love I have for you, will have to wait.
Let it burn in the place it now resides, until that time when you have done what you must, I will kneel.
I will wait. I will hunger for your touch upon my needy flesh for now the altar of my love awaits – your touch. your warmth. your love. your embrace.
Lord, touch me…and then I’ll know it’s true.