Death by Five

A rushed reflection on the rushing winds of four directions and the axis on which they turn.

Death by five wounds

Five Wounds, Holy and Precious

Hark! The four winds of the quartered directions

whistling through the wounds of your limbs

a death song, a death song, a death song

that echoes in

                                the north                                                      

 the west                                                       the east

                                 the south

a lament from the mouth

of Raphael whose words are healing but not at this dark hour.

Gabriel weeps saltwater tears that announce despair.

Michael who brought down the great dragon, cannot bring the Christ down from the cross.

Uriel, oft forgot, prepares the tomb from a broken and wounded earth,

For the broken and wounded body of the God-man.

Each of the four winds resounding now in the four chambers of your Sacred Heart,

For it has been opened, not just so that grace might pour out

But that the world can pour in.

That the hurt and wretched and sick might find refuge.

The fifth wound, that heart wound, that opening

Had it not been for that wound the other four would have torn you asunder

And the earth along with you.

But that point, that tip of the spear of destiny

There became the fulcrum of all things

The axial point, the centre

And you counteracted a centrifugal spin of worlds

Worlds that were prodigal sons gone astray

Suns out of orbit

Sols and souls out of orbit

Becoming now centripetal

Becoming now the blooming rose of your wound

Petals that are the ecstasy of your Sacred Heart receptacle

Within your Sacred Heart, Lord, Raphael speaks medicine once more

Gabriel with tears of joy announces a new, eternal birth

Michael, no longer concerned with taking the Christ down,

Now, with elation, lifts Him up

And Uriel, oft forgot still, but now re-membering, preparing an athanor for new life

The flower of life emerging from the grave

A death song no more

Not the shrill whistle of doom through those wounds

but a spirit-breath symphony of life

A life song, a life song, a life song

A life that is song

Life by five wounds!  

Clumsy, I know, and one shouldn’t handle the greatest of all mysteries with clumsy words, but I was given inspiration from mysterious sources. Enigmas even.

I pray forgiveness.