Mary's Easter

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.