After Luke 7:24-50
In the crowd, curious,
she hears him speak,
his words cutting into
her heart, burning
like hot coals, and she
stumbles away, tears
streaming, wandering
the streets, ignoring or
not hearing the usual
taunts and insults
hurled at her. She hears
nothing but his words,
burning words. She sees
him again, at the table
in the house of the Pharisee,
and she defies convention
and enters, kneeling
before the man who spoke
the words. She lets down
her hair in submission and
love, and anoints his feet
with her tears.
Photograph by Stephany Lorena via Unsplash. Used with permission.
Some Friday Readings
Guilt, Grief, & “Metanoia” – Joseph Mussoneli at The Imaginative Conservative.
Taste and See: A Review of Christian Poetry in America Since 1940 – Eric Potter at Front Porch Republic.
From The Five Quintets – poem by Micheal O’Siadhall.
Making the most of things: time and trajectory – Andrew Roycroft at Thinking Pastorally.
1 comment:
This is beautiful, indeed, Glynn!
Blessings!
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