Agony and Ecstasy

With his nail-driven hands He embraces his bride The bride stands in agony And turns to blissful ecstasy. Alphonsa the saint of India Suffers in her fragile body, Like her divine Lord and master She makes up with her intense pain. St. Paul’s vision of head and body- Jesus, the worthy head of creation, And church his mystical body Both welcome pain as a path to glory. Since the head is so sublime How can it lack something? The self same divinity The Son of God lacks nothing. Alphonsa knows no argument, She knows nothing but to love. Her groom in dreaded suffering She knows only him and his path. Suffering a must or a waste The body rebels and revels The agony of this world , says Paul Has a hidden meaning. On the mighty wings of fire Alphonsa scales the heights of faith Only to be eternally glorified It is the path designed by God. In the fiery chariot of Eliah She ascends to Heaven, Only to sup with her groom To celebrate life in fullness. Like a flower that blooms in desert In the heat and dust of the day, Yet the morning dew descends To open the gentle petals. Every flower tells a story Sad and joyous alike, Of chilling winter and hot summer Only to “show off” bright colours. The saint of ascetic India Can only tell such a story , Of the dry Egyptian desert But caressed by the waves of Nile. Fr. S. Kakkanat