She is now awakened from sleep by him, although she was keeping watch with her heart so that she might hear his voice at once when he knocked. But while she was rising, she experienced a delay, because she could not match the swiftness of the Word. While she was opening the door, the Word passed by. She went out at his word, sought for him through wounds, but wounds of love, and, finally and with difficulty, found him and embraced him, so that she might not lose him.…
Even though you are asleep, if only Christ has come to know the devotion of your soul, he comes and knocks at her door and says, “Open to me, my sister.” “Sister” is well put, because the marriage of the Word and the soul is spiritual. For souls do not know covenants of wedlock or the ways of bodily union, but they are like the angels in heaven. “Open to me,” but close to strangers. Close to the times, close to the world, do not go out of doors to material things, do not abandon your own light and search for another’s, because material light pours out a dark mist, so that the light of true glory is not seen. “Open,” therefore, “to me”; do not open to the adversary or give place to the devil. “Open yourself to me,” do not be confined, but expand, and I will fill you. And because, in my passage through the world, I have found very much trouble and vexation and have not readily had a place to rest, do you then open, that the Son of man may rest his head on you, for he has no rest save on one who is humble and quiet.
The soul, hearing “Open to me,” and “My head is wet with dew,” that is, the soul that was suddenly disturbed by the temptations of the world and was bidden to rise, and indeed is on the point of rising, as it were, speaks: fragrant with aloe and myrrh, signs of burial. - "Isaac, or the Soul 6.50–52"