Conversation (a poem)

My monthly bible study group was supposed to meet tonight, but our hosts' children and grandchildren were evacuated to our hosts' home in the fires we're having, so we had to cancel. (Photos below are from this afternoon.)

We are reading Mark and studying it through the lens of Marcus Borg (Conversations on Scripture). I read the study group questions ahead of time and in one of them we were asked to imagine a conversation between the daughter of Jairus and the woman who touched Jesus' cloak afterward. This kind of flowed as I fell asleep and then spent the day recovering it. Hopefully I got it all.


There she is
Dancing sunshine
In the midst of all her friends.
They say
Jesus raised her from the dead.

Who is that woman?
She sits by the well alone
A glorious halo surrounds her.
Is she the witch who was
Haggard, bent double,
They say
Jesus cured?

I am free of blood
But they won't believe it.
They test me again and again
Searching for an excuse
Not to believe
I am restored.
The girl skips closer.
What can she want with me?

I am Tabitha bat Jairus."

"I know.
I am Miriam.
Jesus redeemed
Your life."

"I was sleeping
And he awakened me.
Do you know him?"

"I touched his cloak;
He restored me to health."

"He is kindness."

And sweetest compassion."

Our voices praise:
"He is love itself."

"Then why are you sad?"

"I am no man's child,
No man's wife."

"But you are life!

Solemn, intense:
"My mother is dead.
My father hovers
As if I'll tumble
Back into the abyss
When he's not looking."

"But you are life!

"And so I live
And dance
With joy and thanks."

"And so shall I."

She takes my hand
And we are
dancing sunshine,
Reflecting His love.


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