The End

You are my end, my destiny.
Yet You are also my only means to that end.
As You have said: “I am the way, the truth and the life.
No one comes to the Father except through me.”

You are the narrow door
Through which I must pass to attain
What can only be sensed here as promise.
Nothing can I take across that portal¬
Save myself alone, heart and soul,
And hopefully love and its memories.
But I will not know until then, what I,
As a secret to myself, have been living for now.

Yet I have seen You, Lord,
As that Mountain towards which
I must venture to one day ascend.
There is no other Mountain,
No other peak of pure Being
On my heart’s horizons.

It is as if my consciousness has been designed
With You alone as its vastest vista.
I apprehend You I know not how
Or even why, though approach You I must,
Propelled by some ineffable longing for You;
A restlessness to finally touch the base of Your Being,
There to rest before that selfsame longing bids me ascend,
To what I somehow know but know not how.
Strange to know You in my longing before
I finally met You in my life.

Perhaps it will turn out that the end
Is really the way itself,
The journey to You hiddenly traversing
Across You, in You, and with You.

Perhaps at the end I will discover
The beginning of yet another pilgrimage to You,
With You remaining lofty as that singular Mountain
Still standing unmoved distant yet near before me,
Never to be mounted in fact,
But ascended only in Spirit,
Which shall prove more than enough.