Olive Garden of the Heart

In the cold chill
Of the dark church,
Your tears flow,
Your Heart is weeping
As I come to sit at Your feet.
In the darkness
I feel the cold wind
Rustle the Olive trees.
I hear the mournful sounds
Of the night,
A backdrop to Your pain,
A harmony to Your loneliness.
There, while the world Sleeps,
You wait, alone.

Your Divine Love pierces Your Sacred Heart
Like the nails pierced Your hands.
Our blindness to Your desire for our hearts
Tears at Yours.
The emptiness of a universe
Echoes cold and vast
Without the love You desire
In return for Your Love and Sacrifice.

At Your feet,
I take the hand of my God,
Ultimate Majesty
With a trembling hand and heart,
Aching to be freed of the prison bars
Holding You out of our hearts.
In the deserted garden
My small human heart
Offers all that I am
To ease the pain
Of the Heart of my Savior.
How can I comfort
The Heart of such Majesty,
With so little that I am?

My heart pierces with Your pain,
Trembles with Your abandonment.
You cry out for love,
But all I have is all I am.
Take me to Your Cross with You,
So You will not be alone
In Your agony, I plead.
The wind rustles the olive trees,
Emphasizing the Silence.
Your hand in mine
Grows warm and tender
And the beat of Your Sacred Heart
Wells up in mine.
There, in the cold of abandonment,
Two hearts join
And beat as one.
I am Yours completely,
My Savior.