I used to write a lot of poetry. Mainly 2004 to 2006. Jim is the only one who's read it. I guess I'm very protective of it. But a few months ago he put most of them together in a collection for me. I have picked it up a few times recently and decided to start sharing them a little through this blog.
One of the main things I used to write about was Mary's worship of Jesus. This is one of many, and I'll be putting some more of my poetry up in the future. I hope I get start writing poetry more too. It's not poetry in the technical sense...So don't be expecting the right mechanics ;)
(not dated, but likely sometime mid-2005)
What must it have felt like to feel the flow of the oil from
Your calf, to Your ankle, to Your feet, to Your toes?
What must it have felt like to have a slow run of anointing
our over You and saturate You?
What did it feel like to have tears and hair - mixed -
to be the rag that cleaned You after being touched already
so extravagantly?
~
What was it like to pour it out on Him? To try desperately to
ignore the stares and the jealousy in the room with you?
To feel the doubt and the worry that you had done something
even more inappropriate than having simply walked in to be with
Him?
Did He turn and grab your hands, hold them and look into your
eye, withe such love and assurance that you were never wrong?
For Him, you could never be wrong.
Pondering this scene in John, and the other gospels where it's recorded, it's one of my favorite things to see in my mind's eye. There's a lot more, to see, to learn, to do, to live. Thanks for reading.
