Forever rambling, aimless and alone,
Listless questioning of life’s purposes.
Where does this soul go, as it meanders
Through forest, vale, town and countryside?
There is no purpose, so it seems, to life,
There's nothing to look forward to, or hope
For some light in the darkness, that within
This soul, grows deeper in totality.
Empty and all alone, this soul, that roams,
Unable to revive the life that it
Once had, and grappling in the dark for one
Last chance for mercy, love, hopefulness, light.
Despite this place where beauty lives and thrives,
Bright sunshine, birdsong, floral colour fair,
The scent of pasture, tranquillity, peace,
There is no life by which this soul can live.
The life is but a simple vale of tears
Weeping and sighing, ever reaching out
To see if there is any hope at all,
To blot out all its sadness and despair.
What could have caused this hapless, hopeless state?
Why no sunshine or joy or sense of peace
And purpose to fulfil the aching heart
And give direction, happiness or hope?
The soul just wanders on, yet far afield,
A little cottage surrounded by tall trees
Seems to beckon gently and pull and call
The wanderer from the lonely, aimless trail.
Led on by curiosity, the soul
Walks slowly to the cottage, and looks in
Through several windows, curious to see
If anything or anyone is there.
Yet no-one can be seen, or so it seems
Now hesitancy grips the soul with fear
As if to say that here is a dead end
Another fruitless venture to avoid.
And yet, a strange compulsion bid this soul
To enter; therefore with reluctant steps
Opens the door and slowly looks around
For any sign of life or welcoming.
Inside is seen but plain and simple fare,
And in the fireplace roars a blazing flame
That bids the soul to sit and take its rest,
And feel warmth never known or felt before.
A table laid with simple food and drink,
A loaf of bread and lowly cup beside
To satisfy the body of its needs,
A meal to revive and fortify.
And as the meal is taken, there appears
From one small corner of the room, a speck
Of light, that slowly grows, which then becomes
A vision bright to flood, cleanse and relieve.
For in that blinding light, there then appears
Two arms outstretched, distorted and blood-stained,
Two legs, both feet pinned down and pierced straight through,
And side with gaping wound, the final cut.
Above this, a face hideously crowned
With thorns, and yet, a look of pity shows
Love, mercy and forgiveness flowing free
To bring the soul out of its prison cell.
The vision stays, for what, one might have thought
An endless time, in which the soul remains
Enveloped in the light, which has dispersed
The darkness of black night now turned to day.
The vision now begins to fade away,
The fire still burns, but it is time to go.
The soul, now sensing peace and joy unbound
Departs, and takes another winding path.
This path leads to a glistening, shimmering lake
Within the forest, peaceful and so still,
The soul is drawn to enter and be washed
To signify new life, new birth, new hope.
Gently into the lake, this new soul wades
Until the depth beckons to go deep down
And freely swim until the time will come
To re-emerge upon the other side.
A figure stands to reach and bring the soul
Out of the lake, to re-clothe and anoint.
This figure, so majestic, full of love
Is the unblemished vision of the feast.
He wraps his arm around the new-born soul
And beckons him to walk a bright, new path.
They walk continuously along the way
Which leads to pastures unforeseen and new.
And so, this lost soul finally found peace,
A peace so unfamiliar until now,
The walk continues until finally
They gradually disappear from view.
Dominus-Iesus-est 