Monday, 5 April 2010

The Widow’s Surplus

Bereaved as I was for these many years
Comfort grew as I leaned heavenwards
And now so late in life learning
From the man they called Master
Listening to his words fall like drops of pure water
Onto my parched ears
And trickle down into my heart
I would go and hear him rain or shine
Poor as I was, with no man to lean upon
Except this one
Wherever he went
Rivers of people flowed round him
He was a rock
And I lived in a desert
With a hardened people
But now forgiveness flourished
Green shoots of healing pushed up through
Stony ground
Deliverance was demonstrated time after time
Each step of his imprinting the earth with God’s footprint
I would move out of my widow’s house whenever he was near
I’d travel too, because when I thought all love had died
My widow’s heart had glowed warm again
My widow’s clenched hand wanted to reach out
But what did I have?
What could I offer the owner of all?
The Master had never seen me
Knew not my name
But today when I woke from my widow’s sleep
My thoughts were full of him as I emptied my purse -
A sign of my unending trust
God in me – me in God, I knew not
I cared not for tomorrow’s bread
Because today, today I was full
Today I would go to the treasury
Rub shoulders with the rich
My one cent would drop from my open palm
And I’d think of the Master’s words from the mount
About sparrows and lilies
Bereaved as I was, it would be something no man saw
And I’d smile through my tears
Because in that act I'd be a widow no more

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