A Long Time
It's been one month now, my Love,
since last You touched me, one month
since last i felt the fleeting glimpse of an
evanescent whispering, an elusive shimmer
invisibly, inaudibly, almost imperceptibly
brush against my seeking soul.
It's been two thousand years now, my Desire,
since last i touched Your face,
anointed Your feet with my tears and my kisses,
since last i was set ablaze by the sight of Your eyes,
since last my ears drank Your words of life
directly from Your lips.
It's been three hundred thousand years now, my Only One,
since last i walked with You in the garden
naked, without fear, without shame;
three hundred thousand years since i left You,
listened to lies, turned my back and chose
something else above You.
It's been from eternity before time, my Husband,
that You chose me, hoping, yearning, knowing
after the parting and missing and crying,
after the hurting and suffering and dying,
after the losing and seeking and choosing
i would one day wish to be Your bride.
After all these years here i am groaning and waiting,
willing to love, to suffer, to die, to live as Your own.
After all these years here i am groaning and waiting –
is not the time almost ripe?
I am lovesick, my Bridegroom, lovesick –
i long for Your return.
[A/N to stanza 3: There is no consistent answer to the question since when humanity exists. I have chosen for poetic reasons one of the many variants I found, but the exact number does not matter, either.]