March 2020 Writing

The Garden

In the garden
New growth, leaves and buds and scents of spring
Of citrus, of herbs, sage, borage, rosemary
Fragrant flowers and the heavier fragrance of lilies

In stark contrast
The sepulchre
A tomb hewn from rock, unused, simple,

In the new light of dawn, Mary came first to the tomb, distraught and weeping
Grieving sorrowfully for the Lord she saw cruelly crucified.
She stooped to look inside,
Two angels seated in the place where Jesus had lain
They asked
“Woman why are you weeping?”

In anguish she turned away to see a man waiting
“Woman why are you weeping
For whom are you looking?”
The Lord she loved, unrecognised through the tears and misery,
Until He spoke her name
She knew His voice
The first to see the risen Lord, she cried out
With absolute belief in His resurrection, she was obedient to his command.

Whenever He calls your name
Will you know His voice?

Will you listen?

© Barbara Rolison Kingdom Arts March 2020

Beautiful Moments

“She leads a seedy life”
The Pharisees murmured disapprovingly
Mary knew that!
Today she didn’t care
The crush she had on Jesus
Now was absolute devotion
She poured the costly oil of Nard
Burial oil over his head and body
Absolute love in a single act
Wiping it with her hair
Soon again expressed at the foot of the cross
Risking all for the world
Tears welled up again three days later
As she preceded the others
To Jesus’ tomb in that garden of beauty
But she looked around and saw nothing
In that desolate veil, only an angel
Then she turned, behind her a figure
A half familiar face
The gardener she surmised
Tears welled up again
He spoke unexpectedly, “Mary” he said
The tears ceased
She looked up
“Rabbouni” “Master” she cried
Then she knew that love had come again.

© Rosemary Orr, Kingdom Arts March 2020

In the garden

What’s happening Lord?
You who understood everything I’d ever done
You who gave me hope, hope like I’d never known
You who gave me peace and love so tangible,
My life transferred from misery and mediocrity?
Promise of eternal life, with you the Son of God
The Son of God, the promise of the Father,
Crucified, this eternal life drained from him
Hung on a cross ’til Death came and took him from us.
He who healed and raised the dead
Now dead himself.

How can it be? We, his followers and his mother
Looked on. Powerless, we watched
Until he breathed his last. Our hearts broken
Shattered into a million pieces.
Pierced with a sorrow like none before.
So, we took your body and with great care
Prepared you for burial,
Our tears wrapped up in your linen cloths.
Everything we longed for lost and and buried
With you, as you were placed in the tomb. Secure.

And so, I came today. I knew not what to expect
But wanted to be close to you. To sit by your tomb
And remember… remember all that was good.
All that was … gone
Now even your body is gone. The tomb is empty
There is nothing left. Just empty promises
—- and SILENCE —-

Where are you? Where have you gone?
“Why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”
“What, who is that? Do you know where he is?”
And thus, the revelation came
Scales not tears fell from her eyes
She could see Him
He is risen. His promises are true
There is freedom
And life forever more in His presence


©Ruth Campsall

Why do I weep?

I ask myself the same question
My broken heart and life
Touched by your gift of acceptance.
Your eyes have pierced my soul
And you see me… the real me
And so, I weep…
For you. my loss. my friend, the man who captivated My heart
And set me free
Why would I not weep.
I weep for all the women who
Have not yet touched you,
Who are still suppressed
I weep because I have learnt to express My heart…
Where have they taken you?
I weep because I can
You see me. you know me.
Catch my fears in the bowls of
Your hands….
I weep ….
Because I can.

© Shefalie, Kingdom Arts March 2020