Can I capture the joy I feel right now, looking south
from my hilltop view?
Overcast this morning but the clouds breaking up
as I write, giving me a glimpse of blue,
the slight breeze, carrying with it
the beauty of knowing another weather pattern
all light and depth,
which welcomed me home this morning
to the church’s other community,
to the world of Mary Magdalene,
and her spiritual allies before and since,
on whose inner door I’d once knocked,
and then abandoned,
in the effort, as a husband and father, to succeed.
Mary, the “apostle to the apostles”,
the first to announce to the men – and the world –
that Jesus had risen,
then disappears, no part to play in the Pentecost,
her path, its conjectured,
leading another way, not to converting and
but to inner work, inner transformation,
and the mystical life.
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