The feast of Mary Magdeline is on my parent's wedding anniversary. I don't know if I ever knew that before this week. I also don't remember loving her story so very much. So much it made me write something worth sharing after over a year. So here it goes:
I walk with slow but steady tread
The rising sun’s pink and yellow stains the path
Precious oils held in unshaking hands
There is no grief in my weary soul
Numbness is my companion now
A reprieve from days of agony
I round the bend toward the stone
Then I am running as if chased by demons to reach the mouth
Silence and emptiness flow out as mist on the sea
My heart wound splits anew
Broken and cracked like the giant stone laying near the path
Pepples cut my knees as I
I fall to the ground...
The hour of three turns
His head slumps to his chest
His ematiated body hangs limp and lifeless
I can not breathe
Soldiers scurry through the storm that has just blown in
The earth moves beneath their feet
A sword pierces his flesh, his precious flesh
I have never felt such pain
Relief that his suffering has ended
Should balm my heart but
The silent tears on young John’s face
Sear my soul
His mother falters and I reach for her
I hear a splitting sound
Which is her heart. Or is it mine
Or is it something far away in the temple
No heart can hold this much grief
Hers, mine, the world’s
I wish for death
But the body must be prepared...
I rise turning this way and that
What could they be doing to him
Have they not done enough to us
My mind is a frenzy of bees and blood
I see a man in white, a simple gardener
There is no malice in his strong face
Where have you taken him
Please do you know where they have taken him
Tell me and I will go
Grief is dulled by rising panic
I cling to him praying that he has seen
And can help me find my Lord
“Mary.”
Peace rushes like the waves of flood
Joy overflows like a rain swollen river
My heart soars higher than the mountain of our ancestors
“Teacher”. It is not a question
For my heart can not decieve me in this
My broken heart is new, pumping hope through my veins
And into the world
As I run like the winds of the desert to tell Peter
What I know.
