The woman’s tears streak down her puzzled face.
Wondering where they took her master.
Questioning two angels about the place.
No Jesus here. Her heart flutters faster.
What a hopeless orb the world is today.
A day without Jesus is lower than low.
What torture it was to see him on Friday.
Why did Christ leave? Where did he have to go?
She asks the gardener where he might be.
But the man looks through the sobbing lady.
He leans over and whispers, “Mary.”
She bolts up, gasping, crying, “Raboni!”
Mary won’t let go of her King and Friend.
A foretaste of happiness without end.
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