Quiver-Aching Poem by Diana van den Berg

Paul said in his first letter to the Corinthians,
“For now we see through a glass, darkly;
but then face to face:
now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known.”

And certainly, I do see through a glass, darkly, God,
for I only understand in part
why You don’t want
him and me
to be,
only that You don’t
and I am trying
to be obedient.

OK, God,
as I send this missive
to You,
and copied to him,
I get Your point after all.
With the slightest word to him
or from him,
his melting charm
and loving touch
and handsome face
dissolve the last slivers of my resistance
into flowing honey
and my heart,
soul,
mind
and body
are again
putty
warmed in his huge, sensitive, adored and adoring hands
and that is
what You don’t want, God
because You don’t want him
to be in control of me.

I’ll try harder to resist him
and hope
that he will forgive me
and remember me
always and all ways
with love.

Goodbye, my love.

I wish you well.
I wish you all the things
that your loving, omniscient God
wishes for you.

You and your well-being
will ever be
deep in the sparkle-glass
of my innermost heart-zone
and in my quiver-prayers,
so,
if you will,
cherish in your heart
this throbbing, living love I have for you
and when you need comfort,
lean back against it
and feel the compassion and caring of its embrace,
feel its safe haven,
feel it loving and adoring you,
feel it washing away the hurts of the world
and bringing you balm,
and, when it does,
if you will,
look far away with your oceansky-eyes
and find me smiling at you,
and if you will,
smile back at me
and thus warm my aching, longing heart too.

(26 October 2011)