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He cleared the pebbles from around them And then, with his finger He started making marks in the sand The crowd hushed Not a sound could be heard What was he writing? He could stand in no longer He pushed his way to the front of the crowd His knuckles white against the stone That he still carried The stone that could bring a swift death If aimed right He intended to throw the first stone To put her out of her misery It was the right thing to do The honorable thing What he saw there in the swirls of sand Made the color drain from his face Did others see his name there? The man who had lead her into sin Who had ravished her? Who had trapped her? Did they see his sin there Written plainly in the sand? He looked around Terrified Knowing that he would be stoned Then he heard the Rabbi speak What was that he heard in his voice Reproach? Anger? Hate? No…it was something else Only later would he be able To give it a name… Disappointed love “Whoever is without sin, Let him cast the first stone.” The rabbi turned his face And look into his eyes Into his heart A knowing look A pained look He heard the thundering of a myriad stones Falling to the ground As the crowd turned to make A hasty retreat Everyone’s face masked in guilt And he ran away Mingling with the crowd But instead of going home He dashed behind an outcropping of rocks He couldn't tear himself away Not knowing What would happen to her And so he waited The stone still in his hand Heavy with his anger, his shame, his guilt He fixed his eyes on the rabbi As he saw him turn to her She lay trembling Her ears covered Her body taut with the expectation Of the impact of that first stone He extended his work worn hands to her chin, Gently lifting her face to him His thumb wiped her tears And his hand cupped her face As he gently asked, “Woman, where are your accusers?” Liked a trapped animal She looked around Fear in her eyes Her face streaked with dirt and tears Her lips quivering… In voice filled with wonder she stuttered “They are…they are gone, master.” He raised her to his feet As she clutched at his prayer shawl Frantically trying to bring some Honor into her word of shame The Rabbi quickly took off his outer garment And covered her As he said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.” His prayer shawl, covered with his filth, with blood and dirt Fluttered to the ground. Besides the quiet sound of her grateful weeping The only other sound that broke the The profound silence of the courtyard Was the loud thud of the fallen stone The first stone.
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