John Barigye
A meek soul
Like the lonely silhouette of a boat on a sea
Sailing towards the golden sunset
The cares of the world
Abandoned on a distant shore
A sea infinitely calm
Supremely serene
A tiny soul
Bathed in an ocean of tenderness
Suspended in an overwhelming peace
Bringing with it the quiet whisper of a love
A love subtle and elusive,
Soft and fragile, like cotton candy
Melting to the touch
A warmth ineffably sweet
The rills of its evidence
In streams down his face
Drowning out the throbbing
In his hands and feet
Blending with the sharpness in his side
The mark of an ancient lance
Beginning to emerge
The Image of his Lord already imprinting
Oblivious to the rose and crimson
Beginning to soak into his rough, grainy habit
Kneeling beneath the old crucifix
In a lonely pew
In a lonely church
Dark, aside from the glow of the sanctuary lamp
The distant chanting of monks
Now a comforting hum in the air
Two loves alone
the heart and The Heart
creature and Creator
bride and Bridegroom
a Divine union
his soul uttering groans and sighs
more eloquent than Plato,
articulating the vehemence of love
his breath catching with finality
his whisper breaking
into two syllables of sharp truth:
“My. God.”
Inspired by the story of Padre Pio
