Monday, April 27, 2009

Mary Magdalene

Standing at the empty tomb, 

wanting to believe.


Devastated,

yet numb.

Weeping,

yet dried up.

Hoping,

yet crushed.


Dare I hope? The tomb is empty.


The faithful have made my faith a mockery.

The lovers have bruised my fragile heart.

The believers have filled me with doubt.


Tenaciously clinging to something --

--anything --


Why do I hang on?

How?

Why have I not yet fallen?


Could I already be damned?


But there is still hope, my bedrock.

Hope screams at me to hang on,

calls out to me to relax,

whispers I am not alone.


From behind, the glow of dawn,

and a voice which says... “Woman, you need but turn around.”





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