pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Jesus speaks my name

WOMAN, WHY DO YOU WEEP?


How do I respond
to such an oblivious
question of this man?

Why, sir, do I weep??
I have been weeping nonstop
for the last two days.

What I lived Friday
I can never un-live, nor
ever put to rights.

And then, yesterday,
the loss began to sink in.
I could not face it.

Now, today, even
His buried body is gone,
and my life, with it.

You ask why I weep?
What kind of question is that?
How can I not weep?

But I don’t say that.
All I can muster is, “Where,
sir, have you laid Him?”

Compassionately,
almost playfully, this Man
says only my name.

I nearly collapse.
Only one Man has kept my
name safe on His lips.

The tears continue,
but they are no longer the
tears of yesterday.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

“Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.”  ~ John 20:15

“Mary” (Entry from the journal of Mary of Magdala)

 

1

This morning
This mourning broke me.
Reality pierced my soul,
Left a gaping hole, with fears
No tears can fill.

This morning
His eyes haunted me,
As I already strained to recall
The implausible love I saw in them
Before the cross.

This morning
I longed to once again see myself –
Me as he saw me –
The me he presented to others –
Instead of the wretch I see in me.

This morning,
In darkness of mood and day,
I made my way to his tomb.
My heart and breath halted
As my eyes assaulted my senses.

This morning
He was gone.
I was even robbed of his lifeless body?
The cruelty of this was agonizing
And my wounds grew deeper still.

This morning
I wept harder and longer and deeper
Than I ever have before –
Not even at the cross, for I was too traumatized
For tears.

This morning
I saw men?  Angels?  Someone – something – angels
At the head and foot where he had lain.
They asked me why I was weeping.
How could I explain such pain?

This morning
I turned and saw a man – the gardener?
He asked me the same question the angels had.
“Woman, why are you weeping?”
Once my closed throat allowed me to speak,
I begged of him, “PLEASE sir, where have you put him?”

“Mary.”

Rabboni!

This morning
Mourning broke.
Light rose from darkness,
Spoke my name,
And I will never be the same.

 

 

©Marie Elena Good

Gospel of John, Chapter 20

Photo credit:  Shutterstock.com