On Becoming Love
I saw Him again today,
In the gratitude which I felt within,
Like a warm soup had flooded my interior,
On a cold winter day.
Peace, should not be a buzz,
But this time it was,
I could feel it in there,
Love spilling out inside me,
I feel it in my arms,
My flushed face,
Warmly it ran down my legs,
Speechless, I say my silent thank you.
For this mystery. This grace.
So is this what it really is to love?
To feel the pain of a homeless person,
To see the smile on the face … who I smiled at for no other reason.
Than she was my sister.
To see the love in my family,
Expressed in so many unspoken ways,
And those who have become my family,
In a unity we seek but seldom talk of,
Of nations united. United as one.
One, single, state of belonging.
The Body of Christ.
So, now what to do.
This love is beyond understanding,
But I have knowledge of it now.
I don’t just feel it.
I am it.
Not because I own it.
But because it owns me.
Not because I say it,
But because I can only act through it.
Not because I preach it,
But because I carry it, carefully and humbly.
It just is.
So, here it is.
My desire is met.
God is there.
I am there.
Waiting for more. And demanding nothing.