The Fountain

The woman said to him,
“Sir, give me this water, that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw.” 

Remember Meribah.
 
This is parched land, afar from sea,
dry, cracked with cold, yet spurns
the tender drops of Mercy
to anele these hearts of stone,
together all alone;
that might dissolve with the next breath of wind
feeding dust to the desert.
It expands,
moves on to the next man,
‘til everything is thirsting.
 
                           So come, all you who thirst
 
And indeed, one drop would suffice.
A single drop of His blood is worth
more than all of the blood on this earth.
 
Here, from birth strain, gushing raw
as we, ashamed, turn away.
 
There is no greater love
and there is no greater pain;
to give without give,
                in the dark
to love without love,
                          in the dark
to die without death,
                          in the dark
for all who have home in your heart.
To weep your blood, bleed your prayers,
and find that they do not care.
 
To be raised up as to see dear souls turn and soundlessly slip below
teardrops onto fire.
 
As His Blood is wept out
             like a Fountain
gushing out for us all to drink, from the Heart
left alone in the dark,
thirsting...
 
So cries all, deepest nature
torn by deepest tragedy.
Oh! Sorrowful Lady,
lead the dolorous chorus,
rending below and above,
that Love is not loved
Love is not loved
Love is not loved
Love is not loved
 
…

 
This is life;
that your love has filled me
and killed me
my heart is cut
it bleeds like a fountain
soon it will run dry
Soon…
Soon…
Why do I not die?
                           See my hands. Feel my side.
Where are you?
                                        I Am here, little one.
I cannot see you
                                        Still, I Am here.
Hold me, always then
I am yours                     I Am yours.
Amen.

In Honour of the Sacred Heart 11/06/2021