Poetry: The Gospel acc. to Mary Magdalene

They said stories about me,

around the fire and the marketplace

''She is Hades'', they said

''She lives rotten & breaths death'', they said

But they didn't know,

I heard it all, they heard it all-

torturous, spiteful beings, who dimmed the light from my eyes

Until one day I felt them cower-

from the hands of a Man, in whose eyes I saw them tremble

His touch unblemished me,

cleansed me, forgave me

loved me,

set me free

//

I stayed with Him, till they took Him

They took Him- poor, terrible men

What did they know?

Whom did they know?

His palms, His feet,

His face, His cries

I swear I could smell His pain

A mother & a brother to behold,

He looked at me

I couldn't leave Him,

I didn't leave Him

I cleaned His wounds with my unblemished hands-

kissed His sweet-smelling feet,

and left my heart

in the cold, dark of His ground

//

I hear them say stories about me

around the fire & from pulpits

''She kissed His resurrection robes'', they say

''She loved Him so'', they say

'The first witness', they call me

but He knows I'd rather be-

Mary of Magdala,

penitent sinner-

Rabboni's beloved.