The Pain of the Father

I weep here.

As I lie,

I gasp.

Who can know the pain of the Father?

Who has known the anguish of the Son?

Do the many branches

know that pain

shall emanate from the tree?

Some branches embrace it.

Some try to cut it out,

But they only cut themselves off

From their life.

From the source

of their life.

You are my life,

Oh God,

and my pain.

My forehead burns,

My eye is blind,

My limbs tremble.

My mind is filled

with blinding heat

and my heart is numb

I have known, a little

The pain of the Father

I have felt, without dying,

The anguish of the Son.