CONSUMMATION
by
Gloria Riestra
(from her poems book "The quiet Night")
He called me in His passing... for His raiment
the teemings of His precious Blood sufficed,
welled in the crucible of final payment.
Meekly flowed down His tears; in the bewrayment
of His glance the sun itself seemed sacrificed.
In the heaving of His breast, with terment harried,
profound His heart flowered forth its love unbounded;
broken the shoulder neath the Tree He carried,
all the world's weight its heaviness compounded.
He called me in His passing; no word spoken nor needed -
clear His gaze showed His intention,
piercing my soul to depths beyond word's token,
gaze like a sword that left me rended, broken,
and for an instant held me in suspension.
As neath the sickle's shadow corn at reaping trembles,
so did my failing flesh before Him,
climpsing a bitter chalice, as I say Him,
that friday's eve, pass one drop to my keeping.
His gaze, demanding answer, quelled my sadness;
was turned to light my darkness, gain my loss;
reading in Him the cost of this world's madness,
changed now my fear to blodness, joy and gladness,
exclaiming: Yes!... I seized from Him the Cross.
***
C 0 N S U M A C I 0 N
por
Gloria Riestra
(de su ebra poética "La Noche Sosegada")
Al pasar me llamé... Por el terrente
de la ruta final... Baja la Frente,
goteaba su Liante mansamente
y en su mirar agonziaba el sol...
En el jadear del fatigado Pecho
saltaba a flor el Corazón prefundo,
y Su Hombre al llevar la cruz, desheche,
se doblaba al total peso del mundo...
Al pasar me llamé: no dijo nada,
mas me miré con un lenguaje inmenso;
y ante la expectación de Su Mirada
que me hendié el alma como hiriente espada,
por un instante me qued en suspenso...
Templó mi came como espiga en ciernes
ante la sombra de la hoz segura,
y perfilése un cáliz de amargura,
gota del de la véspera del Viernes...
Mas Su mirar rogaba mi respuesta,
y trastocó mi escuridad en luz,
y en El leyendo lo que el mundo cuesta,
trocado el miedo por arrojo y fiesta
diciendo ¡si! le arrebaté la Cruz...
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