Sunday, December 10, 2006

Sunday Afternoon

What did she think, I wonder, what did she think when she met him, oh tear away, please tear away the legends and lofty worships, I wonder what she thought, through all her years of scandals and promiscuity, through those years gaining a small view, like peeking through crack of door, what is seen is real enough but not the whole view, no.

What did she think, I wonder, when she met him, saw compassion without reference to personality, love without claims, like one who has only known muddy water beholding a pure clean spring? Did she resist at first, trying to fit this perception in too small a frame, did she resist and still use her wiles as she had always used them, they had worked well enough before, had they not? She was still alive, big survivor in dangerous times, certainly these skills were important and good.

What did she feel as they all fell away, spent arrows that reached no target but her own heart, as they all fell away, that which had kept her safe in this narrow view, thinking the half glimpsed open sky was all there could possibly be, oh the terror to feel it all fall away, did she grasp on to those blunted and obsolete methods anyway, did she wilfully look away? Perhaps she did, perhaps.

And when did it finally dawn upon her, when did the door open wide and even her cynical eyes could no longer deny what was revealed to her, and it was only a question of stepping over the threshold?

She did, she walked into the open air, saw the sky entire, and saw him, only a man, a fellow human being, who had also seen something, and she opened her eyes wide, she took in the view, oh this could not have happened very quickly, could it, that it all fell away, and yet at some point it must have happened all at once, the step through, the open eyes. Did it perhaps happen more than once, the sight driving her back, yet each time closer, to step through again until finally there was no turning back?

Only a man, a fellow human being who had also seen something, no general or king, and I wonder if she saw that a life can be a teaching in itself, the contemplation thereof, the expression of existence itself an influence, unknowing, unintended, that opens a door, and so because of this view of him, knowing she was free to choose, there was no expectation or demand, no invoice or bill of lading, no familiar haggling and bargaining, that this was not the marketplace but a new place entire, I wonder if knowing this was what decided her first step, into the sky, opening wide the door.

For if this is true, for if even a small part is true, then the offering,the offering of the precious and perfumed oil, offering that was scorned and rebuked by those who witnessed it, was no intention of costly gift from the marketplace, but instead an offering of giving up the old to embrace the new, the greater view.


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