Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Abandonment is the Sweet Fruit of Love

This is perhaps the most challenging of St. Therese's poems to read; written near the time of her death when the suffering and darkness was at its worst.  Yet it stands as an example of one who truly offers herself to God; even when perishing able to cry out in the darkness - "I Love You!"  Progressively one must develop a thirst for reparation that intensifies as one grows in her love of Jesus Christ.  That thirst is only quenched when carrying the cross and united to her Beloved in His Suffering.

1 There is on this earth
A marvelous Tree.
Its root, O mystery!
Is in Heaven....
2 In its shade
Never could anything cause pain.
One can rest there
Without fearing the storm.
3 Love is the name
Of this ineffable Tree,
And its delectable fruit
Is called Abandonment.
4 Even in this life this fruit
Gives me happiness.
My soul delights
In its divine fragrance.
5 When I touch this fruit,
It seems a treasure.
Putting it to my mouth,
It is sweeter still.
6 It gives me in this world
An ocean of peace.
In this deep peace
I rest forever...
7 Abandonment alone brings me
Into your arms, O Jesus.
It alone makes me live
The life of the Elect.
8 To you I abandon myself,
O my Divine Spouse,
And I only yearn for
Your sweet gaze.
9 Me, I want to smile at you
As I fall asleep on your heart.
I want to tell you over and over
That I love you, Lord!
10 Like the daisy
With the rosy calyx,
Me, tiny little flower,
I open up to the sun.
11 O my Lovable King,
The sweet Sun of my life
Is your Divine Host,
Little like me....
12 The bright ray
Of its Celestial Flame
Makes perfect Abandonment
Take life in my soul.
13 Every creature
Can forsake me.
Near you I'll know how to do without them
 Without complaining.
14 And if you abandon me,
O my Divine Treasure,
Deprived of your caresses,
I still want to smile.
15 In peace, Sweet Jesus,
I want to wait for your return,
Without ever ceasing
My canticles of love.
16 No, nothing worries me.
Nothing can trouble me.
My soul knows how to fly
Higher than the lark.
17 Above the clouds
The sky is always blue.
One touches the shores
Where God reigns.
18 I await in peace the glory
Of that Heavenly abode,
For I find in the Ciborium
The sweet Fruit of Love!