POETRY: The Darkness by Angela of Foligno

The Darkness by Angela of Foligno

When I enter that darkness I cannot
recall a bit about anything human,
or about the God-man, or anything
owning specific form. Nonetheless,
I see all and I see nothing. As this
that I have spoken of withdraws—though
not completely, as it seems to stay
with me—I see the God-man. He draws
my soul with utmost gentleness
and maybe He whispers You are I
and I am you. I see, then, those eyes
and that face go gracious and attractive
as He leans to draw me to Himself.
In short, what proceeds from those eyes
and what descends from that face is what
I said I saw in that previous darkness rising
from within, and which delights me so
that I can say nothing much about it.

When I am in the God-man, then my soul
is alive. And I am in the God-man
much more than in the other vision
of seeing God with darkness. The soul
comes alive in that vision of the God-man.
Even so, the vision with darkness draws me
so much more that there is no comparison.
On the other hand, I am in the God-man
almost continually. It began to be this way
when, of a moment, I was given profound
assurance that there was no intermediary
between God and myself. Since that moment,
I have not known a day or a night in which
I did not continually experience this joy,
this pulse within the humanity of Christ.

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