Wounded

Song of Solomon 5:6,7 I opened for my  beloved, but my beloved had turned away and was gone. My heart went out to him when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave no answer. The watchmen who went about the city found me. They struck me, they wounded me, the keepers of the walls took my veil away from me.

Why were they so angry with me? They struck me and took off my veil. I turned away my love, He came to me as the Man of Sorrow. Before I could reach for the door, He was gone, I looked for him and I asked others if they had seen Him, they beat me. I felt his myrrh on my fingers, the pain went to my heart.

My Dear creation, the world hates me, they will hate you. You have identified with me and those who fight their maker are convicted and mocked by your love and desperation for me.

They took off my veil. They took away my dignity, they laid me bare.

My precious one, you are beginning to feel the pain of the one who you turned away. You have agreed to receive the Man of Sorrow. This is the marking of the cross on your soul. It is not you they hate, it is Me they hate.

Wounded

So misunderstood, my hart is in despair

so alone with feelings of confusion.

Friends I expect to understand

become the wounds in my flesh.

My heart wants to run

away from scrutinizing jeers.

My love worn outwardly

bears unwanted truth to unready hearts.

The wounds in my sou,

pierced by a two-edged sword.

Cutting between my soul and spirit

only to become my weapon of truth

discerning my own thoughts and intents.

My heart stands naked and opened

to the eyes of Him

to whom I must give an account.

My wounds, too, are not hidden

from His sight.

I must some day stand judged.