WHEN THE HOLY
THAWS
A woman's body, like the
earth, has seasons;
when the mountain stream flows,
when the
holy
thaws,
when I am most fragile and
in need,
it was then, it seemed,
God came
closest.
God, like a medic on a
field, is tending our souls.
Our horns get locked with desires, but don't
hold yourself
too accountable; for all desires are
really innocent.
That is what
the compassion in His
eyes tell me.
Why this great war between
the countries -- the countries --
inside of us?
What are all these insane
borders we protect?
What are all these different names for the same church of
love
we kneel in together? For it is true, together we live; and
only
at that shrine where all are welcome will God sing
loud enough to be
heard.
Our horns got locked with
the earth and sky in some odd
marriage ritual; so what, don't worry. We
should be proud of
ourselves for everything we helped create in this
magic
world.
And God is always there, if
you feel wounded. He kneels
over this earth like
a divine
medic,
and His love thaws
the
holy in us.
~ St. Teresa of Avila
~
(Love Poems From God: Twelve
Sacred Voices from the East and West --
versions by Daniel
Ladinsky)
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