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Mary, teacher of us all,
What wisdom flowed in the sweet nard!
How can I now speak
"What shall I give the Friend?"
For you did not withhold the best
Your hand did not consider a lesser gift
For did not the nard mirror your heart?
And did not your Friend hold captive your affections?
Love, unseen, sought a path to follow to her Beloved
Love, unseen, found a devotion aglow for Grace
Your fingers moved, soft with ointment,
Your hair flowed freely, like your ardor,
Your house, my self, filling with the scent
Be a Bethany room where those tender knees knelt
When my thoughts would consider another boon
Draw my mind back to my heart
For such a fount, within, of scent and touch so sweet,
how could I, my Friend, deny at a time like this...?
There is an extravagance dear to You~Giver of Yourself~
a wise and wonderful waste only true Lovers gladly surrender
*Brian K. Wilcox, December 29, 2006
Read John 6.1-8
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