Revelation, Irony and Selfhood - To my Love

And here I stand,
Hence,
And forthwith I have deemed myself,
Delving into the depths of forever.

Such complacency draws me from it,
And such hardness brings me away from all,
But even myself.

And as I stand here,
not resolute,
but mildly broken,
I feel that impartation once again.
I recognize that life was all but about one thing,
At one time,
And I forget what it is to really feel,
Realness.

And not to acknowledge,
Or to sense,
Or feel, or even taste,
But to know and be,
And thus,
It comes,
Of all I am that beckons,
But yet pulls away.

Two parts of me I hear?
Ah yes, the stinging pain of irony,
Rings in my ears,
Oh how you forget so,
My young one.

As I here those words,
Yearning from the depths of the outer somewhere,
"even if your wrong"
And,
"I guess I am a lot like you."

Oh that I am understood,
More than even I understand,
And yet in such pride,
In such ignorance,
In such strong-headed,
Noble naivety that is youth,
I am disparaged.

I know I am alone,
yes,
yes it is evident,
But no I don't want,
Nay,
Don't need to feel it.

Of course you don't!
That's why I came,
I came to take your pain,
And you fell in love with me so,
Oh why do you pull away,
A question only 'I' know.
(Oh Father so you do,
I forget,
easily,
disdained,
I am,
human,
Yet so were you -
Irony again?)

Disparaged.

The Lord has come to vilify!
My heart screams,
The Lord has come naught at all,
Oh that it is so irrational,
to bear witness to the believed!

He comes to drench me with His love,
Sweetly that it is,
And I am consumed,
Rightly,
Humbled,
Disparaged.
Oh that the living water flows forth,
And brings clarity to all that is me,
All that is life!
And thus,
Hence!
I love Him so,
I knew it all along,
And the greatest pain is,
That, in my lowly existence,
As I carry on,
I crucify Him everyday.

And I cannot bear witness to this awful truth,
That I abuse Him so,
And so easily is He betrayed.
Oh that a thousand billion of my pains
Are upon Him!
Oh that He has taken mine,
And bears mine towards Him!

Though I spit in His face,
Like Judas with handfuls of money,
And so ashamed I cannot even tie myself to a tree,
I have but one choice,
Grace instilled within.

And as the dead beckon,
Some, to slumber alongside their sleepless form
Some, to be consumed by them, as they taunt me,
Taunt with promises of escape, of riches unwanted.
Some, some they are resurrected,
Oh but few are mine companions they are.
I hear Him speak to me from the grave,
From that stone removed,
Calling me, urging me forth with outstretched hand,

Oh that I,
A blind man led by the dead -
Though He is more alive than I ever could imagine
(My day shall come).

And there He stands on that summit,
Though I do not even look to see.
And He calls,
Whispers,
Sweetly,
Full of love,
Full of struggle,
Full of strength, comfort -
What a fortress!

Come and take this blind man,
Mute, and deaf,
And burning inside out.

Wisps and waves cascade below me,
And above,
And all around...
Shadows and darkness creep by, lurking...
I am dead and see none but,
Through the eyes of life restored,

Let me drink from that cup again,
And forever more.

And can I speak of Love,
As you are,
To you,
Love?
Love?
Will you answer me,
Yes,
says I,
The Lord,
It is I whom you love -
And yes,
I love you,
I await to see your face,
Everyday I yearn for you,
Over you,
Watching you like a mother does her young.
Oh my son,
That I love you!
That I love and love a million times over!
That I gather the angels around to look upon your salvation,
That I look with such pride!

Let us entwine such mysteries unto our darkened hearts.