Your sun shall no more go down

Source: Matthew 4:13-16

I was waiting for you.
For so long.

It's true: I lived hidden away, lurking in those shadows. Dirty. The water of our baptism keeps on washing you clean; you can't imagine what it means to live dirty. You can't imagine how dense the despair is when you feel your soul dying but your heart doesn't stop beating.
So, yes, it's true: I lived in that filthy place, all alone. Lost.

Can any place be hidden from your gaze?
Even there, in the secret shadows, far from any light, you were waiting too.

And I swear to you on what I hold most holy: I hoped you would come. I thought I knew where you were; I thought I knew where I needed to go to find you. But every time I tried to escape the shadows, right when a glimmer from you came my way, I could sense how unhappy I was. So covered with dirt, so filled with darkness, so cold that I was afraid your light would shiver when it touched me. Even my love for you couldn't warm me. I was so afraid I would get you dirty that I chose to stay buried and to let your diamonds fade. Every time.

I wept so often. So hard. You can't imagine how much I cried.
I wept so wildly that the salt water of my tears burned my spirit.

So I tried to give you up.

I hoped that if I walked away from you, you would wipe my name off the face of the earth and dissolve my past in nothingness. I hoped that was how you would put an end to my unhappiness at not knowing you. I waited for a long time, a very long time, for kindly death to take everything from me, but my heart didn't stop beating.

And while I was trying to give you up, you were looking at me. Master of the universe, I felt your gaze but I couldn't see your eyes. It was as if my body was dead, as if my spirit was dead. My soul was naked but it still held love for you. I was never able to get rid of that love. It was the imprint of your name.

And yet people had told me that you were inaccessible, that knowing you wasn't possible. That no path to you was better than any other, since you were the one who came and broke the trail from the other direction. I has been told that the word was a hum filling the whole universe, so omnipresent that it was undifferentiated and impossible to recognize as a result. The sound you hear when everything has fallen silent, does it say something?
Lord, what do you say? I hear you, but I don't understand.

Why did you leave your name at the edge of the universe, when your gaze is present in all things?
Do I really have to be something instead of nothing?
To learn to love you beyond any absence?
Did you have to be so far away for your bread to satisfy my hunger for you?

And then one day, a path opened up. You wanted something to happen, and the universe was split like dry wood in the sun. A trail was broken. A strange path: the starting point and the destination were the same, with nothing between them except a boundless infinity. But it was a path. A trail, with no trip.
You were the start and the finish. And the infinity between them. And I was nothing but waiting, nothing but hungering. Just a cry that never died out, a cry walled up in your silence.

I don't know anything about you, but I know that you watch alchemy happen when thirstiness carries my soul out of itself.
A single tear of yours would be enough to baptize the whole universe, but only being thirsty gives birth to love.

I looked at that piece of dry wood for a long time. I looked at this split universe, this trackless path with no trail markers and no distances. Of course nothing came to me.

Nothing came, but love stayed with me.
And all that time, you were beside me, watching and nurturing that love. You watched it as if it were your child, your creation, your joy. And I didn't even realize that your gaze made it grow.

The day will come when it takes up all the room. On that day I will be no more, and all that is left will be that love, the child of your passion.

Yes: from that day forward, my sun shall no more go down, because my only light will be you.