March 31: Another Mary, another tomb

Just weeks before,

A loving absence still raw,

Death and despair lingering,

Beside questions of abandonment.

He appears and everything changes.

His presence and word

Bring love and light and life.

Nothing remains the same.

Later she stands before him in worship.

Pure perfume flowing down,

The anointed one anointed,

Prepared for burial.

And now, this other Mary,

At another tomb.

Demons in her past,

Faithful off-set follower.

Friday’s terrible, jarring moment.

Barely surviving Saturday.

The presence of absence seeping in.

Waves of unbelief and grief.

First on the scene in crisp morning air,

Remnant of hope in satchel of spices.

Longing to be with, even if,

Only a diminished presence.

But this hope too falters and fails,

Dies in the graveyard.

No eyes to see, nor ears to hear.

Blinded and deafened by grief.

“Why are you weeping?”

“Why are you weeping?”

In the midst of her early morning mist,

Though blurry tears,

She senses him as one

Who tends and attends, nurtures and cares.

Not wrong, but incomplete, impersonal,

Until everything changes with a word:

“Mary”

He calls her by name.

So much released in so little.

Infused with compassion,

Now seen and known.

Surprised by life and love.

She turns.

And nothing remains the same.

_________________________

From Dan’s book Listen to Your Life: a year of poetic pondering