SISTER CLARE'S BRIDEGROOM.

A YOUNG NUN AND HER LOVE OF CHRIST

See my bridegroom comes,
said Sister Clare, He comes
swift as birds of Spring, His
voice echoes within, His

touch wakes me from deep
slumber, unfetters me from
my sad sins; His eyes watch
me, they run over me like

flowing water, look into my
soul like dawn's light; He is
my keeper, my protector, His
hand caresses me in my deepest

darkness, His fingers raise
my chin, lift my head, His
fingers touch my heart, wake
me from my selfness, my

obsession with my me; He
comes into my heart, He is
the kisser of life, the waker
of sleepers in the grave; I

wait for Him in the night
when the darkness embraces,
seek His company when
demons touch and fondle;

He is my bridegroom, my
love, I seek Him out like
one for water as I thirst,
I listen for his footsteps in

the break of dawn, I kiss
Him as one kisses one's
deepest love, I am only
happy when He is near,

when His voice awakes
me. He is my safe ship
out in the dark deep sea.