Flowers adorned her ebullient hands
Feverish fingers arranging her eager floral children
Her beaming smiles cajoling the colorful revelers
Each imploring her to draw them near her voracious nose
She mustn’t linger fussing over her prizes
Succumbing to the details of beauty was her sanctuary of distractions
After seven storied years she relished this time of year
She skipped along the by ways of Spring Goodness leaving everything behind
These fields were her oasis – her playground – her way – her path – her truth
Simple innocence tied her curly hair into a bouquet fit for a King
What should she do with this day’s beneficence?
A tender tug answered her question…
She set off to bring her treasure to a special hiding place
Silent murmurs of unspoken happenings seek pure ears
Who will hear these cries of Wonder?
Stonewalled witnesses remain mute in their death defying enigmas
Triumphant prophecies
suspended in vagaries of potentialities
portending a new age of Mercy
a Kingdom of Thy Will takes its loose, fumbling shape
Guards submit to drunken sleep
hapless sentries fulfill duties of blind command and control
While Angels jubilate
dancing to shofar blasts heralding a Sublime Dawning
No ear will be deaf to cries of Life
what is hidden
sheds veiled modesty
Ravaged Meekness exhumes Glory
Time falls on the sword of its Victor
at once ripped to shreds
its beguiling deceit forever unmasked
revealing a heartless, heedless cold mocker
Order consigns slimy, shackling chaos to consuming infernos
bursts of dazzling Light transmute a unidimensional void
slaves to darkness whimper in His Presence
bent by His Word unleashed in torrents of
Righteous Glory
enrobed in regaling Selfless Love
Fulfilled emptiness leaves a clue
A folded white cloth keeps a cave company
Shrouded simplicity
impresses its image of ageless Faith
a material artifact of the immaterial
prodded by well-meaning throngs of ignorant critical inquiries
doubtful cross examinations of incomprehensible Vindication
In cover of lingering night
Mary Magdalene initiates a harried pilgrimage
visiting the tomb before the others make their way
her labored steps quickened by grave grief
her empty hands desperate to behold the One who saved her
Could she have known?
Was she possessed with a hopeless hope?
Obsessed with a childlike dream?
for things to return as they were or perhaps
something even better
something that could change everything
something that could make all things New
FOREVER
Mary blurts past foggy tears
Consuming confusion jars her expectations
A massive stone curtain is drawn
What had been closed radiates open questions
Where is He?
Who took Him?
Why?
Faith beguiles rationality
dampening imagination with insidious assertions of practicality
Mary hesitates to enter the tomb
Telling trembles treat tantalizing testimonies
She must inform Peter and John
She cannot entreat outrageous joy without concurrence
A race ensues
Shameless John flies past Peter to the finish
His eyes catch strips of white linen blessing the ground
Peter steps into the cave
his new found emphatic resolution fires his conviction
he asserts the impossible
it’s time to be a rock and not reject the Stone
Peter and John will rally the faltering convictions of others
The little girl rides Spirited winds
She gives into their whimsical fancies
taking her down new paths
Her flowers must find a special place
Somewhere unspoiled
free of dirtied noise
and dingy dilapidated dissensions
Her small legs struggle ascending a steep hill
She must be close now
And yes… there it was – her prize
Someone must have known she was coming
The huge stone rolled away
She enters the tomb – a perfect hiding place
Her flowers joyous faces perked up
standing at attention
She gasps in amazement
her fingers loosen their grip
flowers tumble
landing on the stone table cradling the white linens
she kneels to gather her treasure
her hand brushes the linens
Striking surging spikes
Shakes soft stillness
Sacred Spirit settles
Her eyes are drawn to the cave’s wall
Flickering scenes of bloodied ravenous torture
raging against the tender innocence of one man
Skipping beats of her heart conjoin a Story
Punctuating poignant pictures
Her life
Her pain
Her sorrows
Battered bruised beginnings
Daily doses
with no endings
A voice rang in her heart
“You know my pain…”
“I know your pain…”
She turned her gaze upwards
brilliant warm burning eyes consumed her
a hand touched her shoulder
“You know Me child and I know you.
I’ve always known you.
I will always love you.
I went to see my Mother first but
you are the very next person I wanted to see
Will you please tell others about Me?
I don’t need to be a secret.
Thank you for sharing your treasures with me.”
Shalom!
My Peace I give you to
My Peace I leave you.
I am with you always even to the end of the age.
