Poem March 17, 2008 Issue

Musings of the other Mary*

Isabel Ferguson

It's impossible to sleep.
Long before the birds, I'm awake
wide awake—
He is risen, risen, risen!
singing hallelujahs in my head.

With a rush comes the thought
I'm not living
in a to-be-dying body.
I can't be, not after that.
What then? Haven't I got
arms and legs, isn't this me
lying in bed?

I can only live the one Life
that is God.

This steeps through and through
until the me is subdued,
not shouting like the birds
now in full-dawn chorus
but glad and attentive
quiet, attentive
for who knows
what good is right ahead!

—Isabel Ferguson

*In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre. And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it (Matt. 28:1, 2).

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Article

I like to go to Sunday School because ...