Love pours forth from my heart

Like blood from an open wound

But no one knows it.

No one can see it but me.

 

I wish it were a tangible thing

So I could say "look! Don't you see?"

But instead, it's like water.

You can hold it in your hands for an instant

Then it drips through your fingers.

All that's left is the wetness

Until that too is vaporized.

 

If you fill up a cup with water

It might slake your thirst for a short time.

But if you stayed at the source of the water

You would never thirst again.

It's like that with God's love, sometimes.

You might fill up your cup once or twice,

But then, somehow, your dirty hands destroy its pureness.

 

Until you are overcome.

Desperately, hopelessly hopeless for His pure love.

You fight against yourself

Fight against the poison.

Searching endlessly, everywhere to know that love

To have that love.

But still...

 

You're drowning, protesting the swampy muck

That opresses you from all sides.

Presses the air from your lungs, sucks you farther into its depths.

It sticks to your skin, blinds your eyes.

Until you can wash it off in the water.

The raging, pure waters that cleanse you from sin

The water that is love.