Idle Tales

Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles, but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. Luke 24:10-11

Idle Tales

We went out weeping our arms
aching with spices, ointments anxious
for what we would see loss overwhelming
our words were limited our sighing
profound.

The morning light a sliver we crested
a small hill the entrance
to the burying ground made us pause, weep
until we were spend we had
to push on.

The men were reluctant fearful
talked of plots and politics we
couldn't hold back for anything
no one in authority would take us
as a threat no one would
even see us.

At first there was shock an open tomb
light now dancing everywhere warmth
inviting reaching in we heard music
and possibility where death
had once been the only resident now
gentle men brilliant and dazzling
rare creatures who smile our way,
would tell us foolish women
something profound.

We ran, laughing with joy stumbling
our feet too slow to carry our
hearts thrilled with good news light
with hope and we ran like children arms
flailing leaving the baskets
and burdens behind.

We told the others the news
he is not here he is risen
they pitied us, told us how grief
would make us fools, how we were tricked
and foolish women prone to nerves
and fantasies.

We were witnesses, first and together
God gave us a glimpse silvery and light
love remade, resurrected for us, yes
we went early with tears and broken
hearts and shattered dreams
we came back with idle tales returned
with profound truth.