Seeking to Love You
Note: I have composed three related poems, “A New Direction,” “The Purgatory of Love” and “To a Man Unknown.” It is my intention that these three poems be read together, as they complement and illuminate one another. Furthermore, I thought it fitting to add a brief comic ending to this little drama: “The Cowboy and the Monk.”
I. A New Direction
“I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life;
No one comes to the Father except through me.”
Gospel of John 14:6
While driving you said
To me, “Our friendship could use
A new direction.”
Although left unexplained then
Your words deserve pondering.
The phrase penetrated
Into a wondering mind
Attentive to you--
Listening and receptive,
Awaiting a word of life.
We’d mentioned God’s will,
And if there may be some task
To achieve on earth
In time remaining to us
Before life’s death intervenes.
A “new direction”
May emerge gradually
If we but attend
And faithfully do God’s will,
Performing our daily tasks.
This “new direction”
Also serves as a challenge
To examine ourselves,
Changing what needs to be changed,
Cultivating what is best.
Excess must be checked,
Desires must be disciplined;
The mind turned to God
Reverently in prayer,
Open to the silent Word.
My expectations
Of you have been excessive;
I’ve taxed your patience
As we so vastly differ,
Making friendship a challenge.
I must respect you,
Valuing your peace of mind
Above my desire
To know whoever you are;
In truth you owe me nothing.
I must not ask you
What you’re feeling or thinking;
But wait patiently
For the times you choose to speak,
Sharing only what you wish.
I wonder but won’t ask,
“Who are you?” For that questions
Your inmost spirit,
Which is yours to discover
In your hidden life with God.
All that is received
Is through the receiver’s ways;
I’ve not observed well,
Failing to respect your ways
Of receiving what I’ve shared.
I do not insist
That our friendship be preserved;
We differ so much
That only strong love for Christ
Could bridge this vast Grand Canyon.
Feel free to depart
Or choose a “new direction”
If that pleases you.
I will respect your freedom:
Not my will, but yours be done.
Do I want friendship?
Do I want purgatory?
Nothing in my life
Requires so much soul-searching
As learning to love in truth.
II. The Purgatory of Love
“O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.”
Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, II:ii.
You sat before me
As we talked; I glanced at you
And noticed your form
Head to boot and in-between,
And I thought: What perfection!
I am elderly,
Sixty-nine years behind me,
But as I reflect
On you sitting before me,
I realize a strange new truth:
In all of my life
I doubt I’ve seen anyone
Who so delights me,
Who arouses awe in me
The way your whole being does.
I love your body,
Your mind, soul—your everything;
Your voice is music,
Your playfulness soars my heart;
Even your tail delights me.
Éros strikes hard
At the heart of this old man,
Uninvitedly.
I did not summon éros
From heaven nor from the depths.
You do not know me,
Unaware of your effects
On a mere stranger--
My Beatrice come late--
Beauty’s living enfleshment.
Love overtook me,
And split my stone heart open:
When I behold you,
I am torn between heaven
And hell, between God and self.
That claim sounds extreme:
I’m torn between my desire
For you, and knowing
That you are not mine to have,
Nor mine to hold—no, never.
Agony, perhaps
Unquenchable agony,
To see and to desire
One whom I may never touch,
Nor kiss, nor firmly embrace.
Unfulfilled desire,
Unfulfillable desire,
Until beyond death,
Bodies gone, mind loving mind--
But what pleasures never known!
Éros is not hell,
It is divine mania,
A powerful gift
To guide by reason’s restraint,
Or it drags one down to hell.
I am being purged
By love’s intoxication:
Desire forced to yield
To what is noble and right,
Not to lust’s hot-burning hell.
You are not heaven
To me, but purgatory;
In yourself, goodness,
Beauty in body and deeds,
But torture to my desires.
I’m Odysseus
Strapped to the ship’s mast to hear
The Sirens calling;
I see your shape, but can’t touch;
I tremble in awe, and weep.
The worship I give,
The sacrifice I offer,
Is to refrain from lust,
And seek all that’s good for you
Now and in eternity.
I may not adore
Your eyes and lips and body;
But I’ll adore you
By imitating your love--
Fervent, free, chaste, self-giving.
And who knows, perhaps
One day I’ll see you somewhere--
Ordinary you,
After Éros had his sway,
And then suddenly took flight.
Still I will love you--
The one whom éros revealed
And then coaxed me
To choose truly to love you
Without bodily delights.
III. To a Man Unknown
“Late have I loved you, Beauty ever ancient and ever new,
Late have I loved you. Behold, you were within me,
while I was outside…” St. Augustine, Confessions Bk X, chapter 27.
A. Reflection on our unknowing
One dimensional--
We’re not one dimensional.
Love is greater than éros;
And as strong as desire is,
Self-giving is Love’s triumph.
In speaking with you,
Desire does not dominate;
We’re kind and patient,
We sense, think, feel, laugh, reflect:
You’re beyond desire’s limits.
As I don’t know God,
I know that I don’t know you;
Our beings transcend
All that one knows or can know;
This mystery inspires awe.
I deserted that awe
While writing about éros;
It’s a sketch, no more--
A mere outline distorting
The strange mystery you are.
How small is knowledge,
How vast the boundless ocean
Called reality.
All that’s known are small islands
In a sea of ignorance.
No word is complete,
No poem, no paragraph;
No knowledge knows all--
The unknown far transcending
Our constricted minds and thoughts.
I should not ask who
You are because that question
Seemed to disturb you;
But I will keep wondering,
Knowing that I don’t know you.
Lovers of wisdom
Know that and why they doesn’t know;
Blissful ignorance
Dwells in those not admitting
That they don’t know as they should.
I’m a mystery
To myself, to everyone;
So are you, my friend;
“Who are you?” invited you
To wonder about yourself.
We want to believe
That we know well who we are;
But we do not know.
Each soul stretches into God--
Into what transcends knowing.
No one truly knows
What we call “God,” the Unknown
Mysterious One
In which everything exists--
The Divine within-without.
You do not know you
As you may assume you know;
I know neither me
Nor you, whomever you are;
That is why I questioned you.
Two forces in me--
If not more—have perplexed you;
Éros and questions,
And these two are related;
I question each one I love.
I question Éros;
The love-god does not escape
A soul’s search for truth;
Desire can be deceived, too;
Nothing escapes ignorance.
Beauty fades away,
Even as one is gazing;
How fleeting it is,
What we thought was beautiful,
Passing into nothingness.
Éros foolishly
Assumes it knows what it sees;
But “looks can deceive;”
The love-god is often blind
To where true beauty resides.
Éros charmed me,
Turned my mind to your body,
To what I perceived
And assumed is beautiful;
Your soul deserves to be seen.
“Who has bewitched you?”
The love-god and I were fooled;
We fell for fool’s gold--
Your looks and your body’s form--
Who is the man inside you?
B. Prayer to divine Wisdom
Lord God, alone wise,
Have mercy on this old fool,
Who fell for beauty
In the body, neglecting
The greater beauty within.
I’ve called him my friend,
For I desired his friendship;
But I don’t know, Lord,
Who the real man is within--
What he loves, hopes for, and knows.
What I’ve seen and heard
Of this man in his actions
Appears to be good;
True beauty may dwell within,
While this blind old man was charmed.
He’s been aging, too;
His golden youth has silvered.
True kindness appears
On his weathered face, and play--
Such delightful playfulness.
I see your creature,
The one you’re sculpting within--
A man still unknown
Except for goodness disclosed
In words, in deeds, in patience.
It’s You I’ve behold
Within the time-chiseled face,
In his character,
In his desire to serve you
Until he returns through death.
I’m sobering up, Lord;
Now I praise your divine love
Fashioning beauty
Within an aging body
Moved by a youthful spirit!
Out of love for you,
He’s being remade within;
A humble heart, Lord,
You fill with renewing life
Which shows up in youthfulness.
By your love I’ll love,
Despite life’s real challenges
That always emerge
Until we breathe our last breath,
Entering fully in You,
“I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life;
No one comes to the Father except through me.”
Gospel of John 14:6
While driving you said
To me, “Our friendship could use
A new direction.”
Although left unexplained then
Your words deserve pondering.
The phrase penetrated
Into a wondering mind
Attentive to you--
Listening and receptive,
Awaiting a word of life.
We’d mentioned God’s will,
And if there may be some task
To achieve on earth
In time remaining to us
Before life’s death intervenes.
A “new direction”
May emerge gradually
If we but attend
And faithfully do God’s will,
Performing our daily tasks.
This “new direction”
Also serves as a challenge
To examine ourselves,
Changing what needs to be changed,
Cultivating what is best.
Excess must be checked,
Desires must be disciplined;
The mind turned to God
Reverently in prayer,
Open to the silent Word.
My expectations
Of you have been excessive;
I’ve taxed your patience
As we so vastly differ,
Making friendship a challenge.
I must respect you,
Valuing your peace of mind
Above my desire
To know whoever you are;
In truth you owe me nothing.
I must not ask you
What you’re feeling or thinking;
But wait patiently
For the times you choose to speak,
Sharing only what you wish.
I wonder but won’t ask,
“Who are you?” For that questions
Your inmost spirit,
Which is yours to discover
In your hidden life with God.
All that is received
Is through the receiver’s ways;
I’ve not observed well,
Failing to respect your ways
Of receiving what I’ve shared.
I do not insist
That our friendship be preserved;
We differ so much
That only strong love for Christ
Could bridge this vast Grand Canyon.
Feel free to depart
Or choose a “new direction”
If that pleases you.
I will respect your freedom:
Not my will, but yours be done.
Do I want friendship?
Do I want purgatory?
Nothing in my life
Requires so much soul-searching
As learning to love in truth.
II. The Purgatory of Love
“O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.”
Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, II:ii.
You sat before me
As we talked; I glanced at you
And noticed your form
Head to boot and in-between,
And I thought: What perfection!
I am elderly,
Sixty-nine years behind me,
But as I reflect
On you sitting before me,
I realize a strange new truth:
In all of my life
I doubt I’ve seen anyone
Who so delights me,
Who arouses awe in me
The way your whole being does.
I love your body,
Your mind, soul—your everything;
Your voice is music,
Your playfulness soars my heart;
Even your tail delights me.
Éros strikes hard
At the heart of this old man,
Uninvitedly.
I did not summon éros
From heaven nor from the depths.
You do not know me,
Unaware of your effects
On a mere stranger--
My Beatrice come late--
Beauty’s living enfleshment.
Love overtook me,
And split my stone heart open:
When I behold you,
I am torn between heaven
And hell, between God and self.
That claim sounds extreme:
I’m torn between my desire
For you, and knowing
That you are not mine to have,
Nor mine to hold—no, never.
Agony, perhaps
Unquenchable agony,
To see and to desire
One whom I may never touch,
Nor kiss, nor firmly embrace.
Unfulfilled desire,
Unfulfillable desire,
Until beyond death,
Bodies gone, mind loving mind--
But what pleasures never known!
Éros is not hell,
It is divine mania,
A powerful gift
To guide by reason’s restraint,
Or it drags one down to hell.
I am being purged
By love’s intoxication:
Desire forced to yield
To what is noble and right,
Not to lust’s hot-burning hell.
You are not heaven
To me, but purgatory;
In yourself, goodness,
Beauty in body and deeds,
But torture to my desires.
I’m Odysseus
Strapped to the ship’s mast to hear
The Sirens calling;
I see your shape, but can’t touch;
I tremble in awe, and weep.
The worship I give,
The sacrifice I offer,
Is to refrain from lust,
And seek all that’s good for you
Now and in eternity.
I may not adore
Your eyes and lips and body;
But I’ll adore you
By imitating your love--
Fervent, free, chaste, self-giving.
And who knows, perhaps
One day I’ll see you somewhere--
Ordinary you,
After Éros had his sway,
And then suddenly took flight.
Still I will love you--
The one whom éros revealed
And then coaxed me
To choose truly to love you
Without bodily delights.
III. To a Man Unknown
“Late have I loved you, Beauty ever ancient and ever new,
Late have I loved you. Behold, you were within me,
while I was outside…” St. Augustine, Confessions Bk X, chapter 27.
A. Reflection on our unknowing
One dimensional--
We’re not one dimensional.
Love is greater than éros;
And as strong as desire is,
Self-giving is Love’s triumph.
In speaking with you,
Desire does not dominate;
We’re kind and patient,
We sense, think, feel, laugh, reflect:
You’re beyond desire’s limits.
As I don’t know God,
I know that I don’t know you;
Our beings transcend
All that one knows or can know;
This mystery inspires awe.
I deserted that awe
While writing about éros;
It’s a sketch, no more--
A mere outline distorting
The strange mystery you are.
How small is knowledge,
How vast the boundless ocean
Called reality.
All that’s known are small islands
In a sea of ignorance.
No word is complete,
No poem, no paragraph;
No knowledge knows all--
The unknown far transcending
Our constricted minds and thoughts.
I should not ask who
You are because that question
Seemed to disturb you;
But I will keep wondering,
Knowing that I don’t know you.
Lovers of wisdom
Know that and why they doesn’t know;
Blissful ignorance
Dwells in those not admitting
That they don’t know as they should.
I’m a mystery
To myself, to everyone;
So are you, my friend;
“Who are you?” invited you
To wonder about yourself.
We want to believe
That we know well who we are;
But we do not know.
Each soul stretches into God--
Into what transcends knowing.
No one truly knows
What we call “God,” the Unknown
Mysterious One
In which everything exists--
The Divine within-without.
You do not know you
As you may assume you know;
I know neither me
Nor you, whomever you are;
That is why I questioned you.
Two forces in me--
If not more—have perplexed you;
Éros and questions,
And these two are related;
I question each one I love.
I question Éros;
The love-god does not escape
A soul’s search for truth;
Desire can be deceived, too;
Nothing escapes ignorance.
Beauty fades away,
Even as one is gazing;
How fleeting it is,
What we thought was beautiful,
Passing into nothingness.
Éros foolishly
Assumes it knows what it sees;
But “looks can deceive;”
The love-god is often blind
To where true beauty resides.
Éros charmed me,
Turned my mind to your body,
To what I perceived
And assumed is beautiful;
Your soul deserves to be seen.
“Who has bewitched you?”
The love-god and I were fooled;
We fell for fool’s gold--
Your looks and your body’s form--
Who is the man inside you?
B. Prayer to divine Wisdom
Lord God, alone wise,
Have mercy on this old fool,
Who fell for beauty
In the body, neglecting
The greater beauty within.
I’ve called him my friend,
For I desired his friendship;
But I don’t know, Lord,
Who the real man is within--
What he loves, hopes for, and knows.
What I’ve seen and heard
Of this man in his actions
Appears to be good;
True beauty may dwell within,
While this blind old man was charmed.
He’s been aging, too;
His golden youth has silvered.
True kindness appears
On his weathered face, and play--
Such delightful playfulness.
I see your creature,
The one you’re sculpting within--
A man still unknown
Except for goodness disclosed
In words, in deeds, in patience.
It’s You I’ve behold
Within the time-chiseled face,
In his character,
In his desire to serve you
Until he returns through death.
I’m sobering up, Lord;
Now I praise your divine love
Fashioning beauty
Within an aging body
Moved by a youthful spirit!
Out of love for you,
He’s being remade within;
A humble heart, Lord,
You fill with renewing life
Which shows up in youthfulness.
By your love I’ll love,
Despite life’s real challenges
That always emerge
Until we breathe our last breath,
Entering fully in You,