Sunday, April 4, 2010

He Is Risen Malika 4/30

His Is Risen #4 04.04.10

He appeared First to
Mary Magdalene.
He trusted that She
Would be the One who would
Actually See Him,
Just as She had been the One to
Hear Him,
To Hold Him
To Listen-
To wash His feet with Her tears,
To dry them with Her hair-
What they didn’t know was that Later
He Returned the Favor;
Had knelt at Her feet,
Wept for Forgiveness
Because She would Never be recognized
As His Companion,
Be labeled “whore” for all eternity,
Another Black Woman denigrated for being
The Bearer of Life-
All because this was something God
Couldn’t have done without
Mary,
Mary. Mother of God;
His Lover
Had the Same Name,
This Had to be a Sign.
And contrary to popular belief,
True Men of God followed them.
The Wise Men
Read the Stars,
Astrologers,
Mystics that would be reduced to
Sorcerers if placed in an alternate setting-
Peter denied him three times
Before the rooster crowed,
So He Knew
The One who would Be There,
To See Him,
Was Mary Magdalene-
She knew His Father
Better than any Disciple.
She showed up at the Memorial
Only to find that the Stone
Had already been Rolled Away.
It was the Women
Who understood Commitment
To Mean what Happens
When All Goes Wrong
And You Stay Anyway.
He was a Man.
Human, fallible, and therefore
Unable to Rise on His Own,
He Was Risen,
The Hand of God
Clasped between the Praying Hands of
Three Women
Raised Him,
Just like Mary, A Woman,
Raised Him,
Told Him the Wine had Run Out,
And when He asked why she told Him this,
She said, “Boy, you’d better Make a Miracle”-
It was His First,
And She was the One to Know
Who He Was,
What He Could Do-
Who it was His Hand was Working Through-
And She had been Silenced,
Along with the Other Women.
Her Voice
Was not given back
Until After
He had Gone.
She couldn’t be Heard
Above her Little Boy,
And can you Imagine
What it must have Been Like
To raise a man-child
Who knew himself to be the
Son of God-
He was always playing One
Off the Other.
If Mama said “no”,
There was always Daddy to go to-
But Daddy
Wasn’t There to Hold Him,
To Kiss His scraped knees,
To be the One the Find Him
During His Lost Years-
What kind of Father
Loses His Child
For 18 years?
One that Knows the
Mother has it all
Under Control.
Mary Was There
To Share the Burden
Set upon His brown shoulders
By His elusive Father-
And when He grew up,
It was Mary Magdalene,
There to oil His Hair
When His locs needed tending to-
It had always been Women
To see Him through,
So He Knew
That when it Came Time
To Reveal Himself-
Mary Magdalene would be
The One-
Just as Mary had
Always Been-
First His Mother,
Followed by His Lover-
Those Silenced would Speak,
And Only She
Could Be Trusted
To Know what to Say-
Mary had Been There
Through It All-
Sharing The Burden
All The Way.

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