A poem for Monday

           The Dark Night

In the delicious night,
In privacy, where no one saw me,
Nor did I see one thing,
I had no light or guide
But the fire that burned inside my chest.

That fire showed me
The way more clearly than the blaze of the moon
To where, waiting for me,
Was the One I knew so well,
In that place where no one ever is.

Oh night, sweet guider,
Oh night more marvelous than the dawn!
Oh night which joins
the lover and the beloved
So that the lover and beloved change bodies!

In my chest full of flowers
Flowering wholly and only for Him,
There he remained sleeping;
I cared for Him there,
And the fan of the high cedars cooled him.

The wind played with
His hair, and that wind from the high
Towers struck me on the neck
With its sober hand;
Sight, taste, touch, hearing stopped.

I stood still.  I forgot who I was,
My face leaning against Him,
Everything stopped, abandoned me,
My worldliness was gone, forgotten
Among the white lilies.

-St. John of the Cross