I began to navigate the sea of life, the comings and goings of the years. Tell people to not expect magic tricks, I only bring you the song of the freedom. Explain to them that I only aspire to be a clear fountain where they can drink water of eternal life and I apologize if sometimes you find the fountain dry.
Tell them also that my Lord placed burning coals in my mouth and that,If you ever hear fire and heat in my voice, make no mistake: it’s not about my voice, but of the fiery furnace of my Lord.
I put my words and my tiredness, and nothing more. But everywhere they sprang golden spikes and almond blossoms, and the fields shone in the sunlight like mother fertility displayed in a thousand lights and colors. He was a prodigy. I sowed, but Someone put movement in the silent bosom of life.
I sailed a thousand days along the rivers of God. As the myrtle spreads its fragrance in the valley, your fragrance, my Beloved, was the breath in my mouth for the thirsty in the spirit, and a sudden dawn of love exploded in the depths of the town like a spring in bloom; and a current of sweetness ran through the The arteries of the people and the towns were flooded with perfume and celebration.
What is between birth and death? It is the blood that carries life for the invisible paths. As the shadow chases the light, I set in motion the shadows of the weary people behind the incandescent spotlight of the beloved Lord. The towns and crowds let themselves be carried away by the tide and they knew for the first time what is youth and where is the secret of perfect happiness.
I took the people out of the den of wolves. And they wanted to sing a song, the song of freedom. I yelled at them a thousand times that it was pure grace because I was nothing but wind, a wind caught in the net, an autumn leaf fallen in the ground. I dedicated myself to collecting crusts for hungry mouths. But That crust was You, they were hungry for You, my beloved Jesus. They wanted to devour you, because only You can satisfy their hunger. I pronounced your Name and all the cords of the countless people entered in vibration as a prelude to the eternal party. What a spectacle!
I put my nest on the last branch of my Beloved because I wanted to fly high, very high, so high that he no longer needed any help because all the desires were left behind. filled with the light of the wandering stars of the night. My wounds have always been open to the torrent of your sweetness. I forgot to breathe so much to be quiet and attentive to the heartbeats of your love, and I wanted to have the audacity to love you until death.
Look, Lord, at the wounded man. Tomorrow you will understand that the cries of your throat are calls drowned in tears that ask for your blood, your chest, your madness of love, your sweetness. Who planted those wheat fields but your hands impulse of your heartbeats? Have mercy on the hungry and wounded man. Fill your hands of golden grains and turns his life into a bonfire of peace. Oh, love without shores. You distribute Love piece by piece like bread fresh from the oven. Don’t you get tired, Jesus. And man will become an angel without fear, without loneliness, without delirium.
Taken from the Circular Letters number 15 “Poem of gratitude to the Lord” by
Father Ignacio Larrañaga
