Mary of Magdala



You can't comprehend
For you weren't there
When I had no friend
And shame was my share

A mistake of a Jew
Esteemed as a Gentile
Lasciviousness I knew
Every attempt to repent was futile

Once dragged before the Rabbi
Whose purity sharply contrasted my behaviour
I shrunk, ready to die
When He proved to be indeed my Saviour

So as I stumbled through my tears
I ignored all your prejudice
For One so Holy has alleviated my fears
And has remade me from the genesis

With tears instead of water
I washed His precious feet
Not a towel, with my hair rather
I wiped those priceless jewels dry

And with that fragrant oil
I got with all my worth
I anointed Him, my All
For His gift superseded my wealth

My tears, my hair
My oil on His feet
Was the only praise I could afford
For the grace He gave on His own accord

(Based on John 8:3-11; Luke 7:37-38)
Written by Akua Ameley

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