THE LONG JOURNEY TO WHERE I ALREADY AM

Upon tasting the oneness that is God’s presence intertwined with our own, nothing less than it can ever satisfy us again.  We look for a word here and a sign there and lament he’s nowhere to be found, oblivious to the whispers in everything around us – whispers of the Bridegroom beckoning to us through them.  We hear his echoes, yet don't know where he is; when all the while he’s right here, never further away than our next breath.  He hones a desire through this great, vain searching, only to see us collapse under the weight of all our needless striving.  And then, when we catch our breath and look up, there he is - everywhere.

From St. John of the Cross’ Spiritual Canticle of the Soul:

My Beloved is the mountains,

The solitary wooded valleys,

The strange islands,

The roaring torrents,

The whisper of amorous gales;

The tranquil night

At the approach of the dawn,

The silent music,

The murmuring solitude,

The supper which revives and enkindles love.