Thursday, November 7, 2013


Woman, where were you looking for me?
You should have known where I would be,
In my Father’s house, showing the scribes
Where I am on every page they copy.

Woman, what do you want from me now?
It is not time to pour out wine and water.
The sword that pierces you has not yet
Pierced the lamb led to the slaughter.

Woman, behold your son born of your word
And born of the Word on the Tree,
Here where I said I would be found,
Pouring out my life-giving wine for free.

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