Mary Magdalene and the Gardener
A Poem | Kathryn Kirby
He awoke from the long dark night renewed.
He stood, stretched, felt sweet strength course through his veins,
Pushed lightly through the rough-hewn stone, imbued
With deep thanks. “Bright dawn cleanses what remains
Of nightmares,” he mused. “And I’ll break my fast
with Mother first!” He smiled. He noticed weeds
choking small bright flow’rs bordering the path;
He stooped, pulled, freed roots hostile plants had seized.
One save led to another ‘till all blooms
Thrived. Sparrows cheered. He rose at weeping’s sound.
“Who can sorrow so? Sweet fragrance resumes,
Hails imm’nent joy!” His question its mark found.
Countered she: “Where is He?” Dirt hid wounds, ‘till, “Mary!” He said.
Graced Lily! embraced, planted, ever heralding our Head!