In my Garden of Gethsemane
I walked along with her
She could not know my suffering
A worm stuck in my own cocoon.
The wounds I bore
She touched them
And they opened
I screamed silently until I could be silent no more.
She did not mean it
She could not see they were there
And I hid the bleeding
Until our river ran crimson with untold memories.
By touching them
She healed them
The flesh, it tore
But allowed the Light to enter.
There are some Souls
Who bless our lives with presence
Who heal us even amid the suffering
Such is Love.
I wonder what wounds I touched in her
And I weep at the thought of the injury
Even as I pray that I healed her too
A reflection of the Light she is to me.
I can see her now, clearly
The clouds of torment gone
The attention to wounds forgotten
Love eternal reigns the day.
In the ending a new beginning
In the loss a prize eternal
I bask in the tears I shed for her
Such medicine those salty rivers give!
I feel her now not through a pain soaked curtain
But through a warm vessel of Light
The Sun, the Moon, the Stars
The Glory of a Dancing Tigress.
I felt the Universe unfold in beautiful awe
As she fell into my arms weeping
Telling me a million stories
Without ever saying a word.
And I heal…
That moment I came down off my cross
And turned it into just another tree
I fell in love with me.
Right there, in my Garden of Gethsemane
Where the Beloved showed me who I am
Right where the wounds became no more
Right were she touched where no one has touched before.
I wrapped my arms around her
Our sweated Beings merged
I loved in that moment like I’ve never loved before
I swallowed all of her she’d allow me to have.
I ceased to be in that moment still
The final thread of my veil fell away
Or so it seems that weighted cloak is gone
Lifted by a selfless act of Love.
I do not pretend to know tomorrow
There are many crosses with many weights to bear
Yet in this instant I fear no more
I am free in this, my Garden of Gethsemane.
I love to celebrate love and awakening when I write. Thanks so much for reading…
Editor: Lynn Hasselberger