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Yes, I have always come to the crucifix to pray,
But I never knew Jesus Christ and His love until to-day,
I sought by the feeble ray of the dim light of my mind;
But now it is dark, I learn by touch as they do who are blind.
I feel the pulse of infinite love beat feebly like my own,
And the heart of God confined in space to a little cage of bone.
I have often pondered this but have never understood
How hands which heal are stark and still, nailed to a piece of wood.
The love that makes, the love that mends, my own weak Faith could guess,
But not the love that wills to bear man’s utter helplessness,
The love in the womb, the love int he Host, the love in the burial bands,
The power and the gentleness of the love nailed fast by feet and hands.
I knew the common soil enclosed the Rood’s strong root;
That therefore Christ remained with us, its Seed and Flower and Fruit.
But I did not know the last extreme mystery of love;
That when man is rent, on his fluttered breath of death descends the Dove.
The Dove descends and the seed is sown on the sigh of the last drawn breath.
And life smiles back through the hard grey dust of the frozen face of death.
~ from The Reed of God by Caryll Houselander
The small book this poem comes from was a gift to me. I like to re-read it during Lent and thought I could share on this Passion Sunday. May the Lord bless you and yours.Published in