Prayer

Before A Crucifix

Who is this who waits
With arms extended
And wide open hands?
It is Christ, Our Lord.
For ages and ages,
He has been waiting here,
Generations have passed,
He has not folded His wings
Or closed His eyes.
For whom does He wait,
for whom the invitation,
for whom the inexhaustible patience
of infinite love?
It is for one,
who comes slowly,
hesitating, afraid,
trusting more to chance,
to perishable things
and the frailties of men,
than to the everlasting arms.
It is for me,
that for two thousand years,
Love has waited here,
with wide wings spread.
It is for me,
the courtesy
that will not be made importunate,
will not constrain my love
or force the suit.
It is for me,
the silence of the word
wherein the beating heart
alone is audible.
It is for me that God awaits,
with open hands,
a beggar at the locked gates
of my soul.
It is for one who doubts,
mistrusts and fears,
who sees the tears
upon the human face
of God,
through her own tears,
and is not moved.
Of all the world
unworthiest to be loved,
driven at last
from self-inflicted harms,
Reluctantly,
to the Eternal Arms.

—Caryll Houselander