I knew
I knew I was jealous
Jealous of Mary.

I knew
I knew from Friday afternoon,
The look on her face
When they sealed the tomb.

I knew
I knew she would be there
At sunrise.

I knew
I knew the passion
In her body drove her
To have Him all,
All for herself, to wash Him
To wash Him with her tears,
To dry His lifeless body
With her hair,
To anoint Him head to toe
With her lips,
With her breath,
With her love.

I knew
I knew I was jealous
Jealous of Mary.

I had fallen asleep
Fallen asleep waiting for her.
I never felt,
Never felt the earth shake.
I never saw
Never saw the soldiers abandon
Abandon their watch.

I just knew
I knew I was jealous
Jealous of Mary.

When I awoke,
I saw her
Saw her in the tomb
Slowly unwrapping the shroud,
Ever so slowly
As the linen cloth stuck
Stuck to his wounds.

To my surprise,
She had already spotted me.
She beckoned to me.

To my surprise
She invited me
To also wash Him head to toe
With my tears,
To also anoint Him head to toe
With my lips
With my breath,
With my love.

And Jesus sat up
And said to us,
“I must go now.
I have yet to visit my Father.
Go tell the others
What you have seen.”

He held us both close
Close to his naked body.
There was a smell to his skin,
A different kind of smell,
Perhaps lavender.
A different kind of feeling
To his arms
To his arms wrapped around us.
Perhaps what an infant feels,
Perhaps what a lover feels.

A smell and a feeling
I experience now and again
When I sit quietly in my heart,
In my soul,
Where I love
Where I’m jealous
Where I live passionately,
Perhaps at times too passionately,
Where I await
Await my own return
My own return home.

Yes, I was jealous
Jealous of Mary.
Had I not been jealous
Jealous of Mary,
I would never have been there,
Never have been there to give
To give Life,
To give life to my dead Jesus,
To my risen friend,
To my risen friend.


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