Lessons at Mary’s Feet
Scent of lotion as I soothed dry skin
Her heel cupped gently in my palm
A meager offering in cancer’s wake
My love and fears mixed with the balm
Sisters linked through faith, not birth
Our journey together about to end
The scales of our lives were now tipping
How does one lose their best friend?
Twelve who knew, gathered in a room
Hosannas repeating in their ears
Preparing to sup on bread and wine,
Almost forgetting, His time was near
Christ knowing, as He removed His robe,
Only actions would convey what words lacked.
Removing sandals, He began to wash
The soles of those loved, calloused and cracked
Lesson written in water, not sand
Script of affection, missive to serve
His a Master’s heart, but servant’s hands.
Grace to give, not earn or deserve
Before them in submission, Christ knelt
Ministry not needed, or even desired
Glimpse of heaven, divinely ordained,
Last ritual, final portrait inspired
Did mere water cleanse twelve that night
Or did His tears blend in the bath?
Forgiveness washing betrayal’s stain
Final offering left beside death’s path
My friend’s cross not fashioned of wood
Chemo the nails, radiation the thorn
My last gift to her, I understood
Her plight was to leave, mine was to mourn
Only now, do I truly perceive grief’s gain
His found in death, while mine found in life
To stay or leave, such companionable pain
My only hope born through His anguish and strife
No comments:
Post a Comment