Celibate Lover

On path behind our stride the forest fires
Burning memories made of human hands
Screaming souls in front construct the pyres
To sacrifice the life of our demands

Angelic choirs quickened to your voice
‘Oh Jesus, move the mountains in my heart’
And I was not divided in my choice
To bring my strength to bear and play my part

As Mother is the river raising me
Your freedom in the Lord is my delight
I only wish I better helped you see
Yourself, as into me you cast your light

​Charity, purity, and lowliness
​These gifts you grew in me through our friendship
​