Because I Loved Her

There are those who are refined,
In thought, speech, and action.
I studied the lives of these great saints,
Perfected in virtue and “spiritual” qualities…

And found that I was not one of them.

There are those who set their mind,
And move in fierce determination.
I admired those with will and discipline,
Who struggle and strive so admirably…

But alas, neither was I one of those.

There are those of diamond-like intellect,
Able to discern and articulate profoundly.
I listened to countless discourses,
From those blessed with eloquence of mind…

And found that I was not one of them.

There are those who persevere,
Against the powerful tides of doubt.
I have known many in whose Hearts,
Faith and Hope are alive and shining…

But alas, I am not one of those.

And so, when She showered Grace,
Upon this least of Her lovers,
Drenching my Heart,
I assumed it was because…

I Loved Her.

When Her Love Overflowed,
In the Wellspring of my Heart,
Flooding the Whole of my Being,
I assumed it was because…

I Loved Her.

When Mercy Shone like a Sun,
Upon one so wounded and broken,
So lacking in the great virtues,
I assumed it was because…

I Loved Her.

When I was showered in Grace,
Drowned in the Ocean of Love,
And Blossomed in Mercy's Light,
I assumed it was because…

I Loved Her.

Only after these Benedictions did I find,
That the Love and Longing I had known,
Were never for a moment my own,
But Gifts from The Beloved.

The Beautiful One, who,
Before the world was birthed,
And the Light of our souls first glimmered,
Before ever we Loved Her…

Loved us.

And if it had not been so,
If Grace had not proven to be,
Without cause or condition,
Then surely, surely…

I would have cried myself to death.