I sprinkle precious water from my vial
Over feet into the bowl.
These feet that trod on our assumptions.
They trod the path from north to south,
bridging the stories of Kingdoms long past.
Could reconciliation be possible in a land
that has soaked up so much blood?
Perhaps it is inevitable that this Reconciler
will be taken down?
How the can I show Him my love and support?
How terrible it must be to carry the stories the way He does?
My tears, held in this little vial,
join all my weeping stories,
and those of every mother, sister, wife and daughter,
with those He bears.
(Mary of Bethany)
(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler