Sunday, January 10, 2010
From Lying Awake:
Sister John opened a fresh notebook and began to write. Adoration welled up through the pain, closing of the gap between lover and Beloved. The force of his pesence curved eternity in on itself; it was not her love rising after all, but his love pulling her toward him. She fell upward into brilliance, where all suffering was released.
In the fire of his embrace, all that was her ceased to exist. Only what was God reamined.
The cloister bell, the voice of Christ.
He spoke again:
She tried to obey but was frozen in beauty, like a fly trapped in amber. She could not move.
Nothing exists apart from me.
Self had been an illusion, a dream.