Mary Magdalene

She stood before his silent stare alone Behind her howled the frantic arms of death That once subdued her will, besmerged her bone With the rancid ravaging of their breath. She felt transparent as their condemning tongue Shifted the weight of guilt to her for crimes That senseless passions savaged reeked. She hung Her eyes upon his face of love, the slimes Of sin indulgent wage demand his justice But he ignoring them wrote in the sand, And she to his mercy bowed, eyes in mist She touched her Creator's kind, tender hand. And in the putrid purity of heart she Pined to pour him oil and serve his mercy. ii The years, itinerant moments, fled fast Along the dusty ways the marked preacher past And many heard him, and many feared him Shackled to the lucre vain, future grim In the mission since eternity set To ransome all the world through savage death And one from his audience bait her breath Her love flowering for him that met Her condemnation with mercy most kind And so at Bethany's feast she knelt bare Feet to touch, devotion unspooled her hair To mop them, moistened with tears and oil. Find In history's annals an act more divine: Mary's love preparing the Christ for his shrine.