by Rosalie Weller

Three Marys standing at the cross,
wondering, waiting, contemplating their loss.
No hope on the horizon, only desperation and fear,
surrounded by strangers, listening to their jeers.

Mary Magdalene thought her demons were gone,
now tormented as she watched God’s son.
She was close to him as he preached and healed.
She didn’t reckon this as part of the deal.

Mary, wife of Cleopas, comforts, knowing it will not last.
Then they’ll be ready for the burial tasks.
Just a few more hours ‘til Sabbath comes,
then bones will be broken to hasten the end.

Mary His mother watching her son die.
No sound from her; only a silent cry.
Teardrops forming; the eyelids let go,
gently wetting her face as they overflow.

Continual standing triggers legs aching
But do not compare to His branding.
Three-hour darkness overhead;
it won’t be long now until Jesus is dead.

Mary of Bethany, she is not here
She ministered to him, wiping his feet with her hair.
Perfume poured out as her soul worshipped and adored,
watched by a humanity flawed.

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Rosalie Weller is a retired ordained minister of the Uniting Presbyterian Church of Southern Africa. She is also a qualified school teacher, becoming the head of the Ethics Faculty of a state school in the UK. Although she has always written poetry and short stories, retirement affords her more time to hone the crafts. She runs two writing groups, affiliated to the Association of Christian Writers and is the Groups’ Coordinator for that organisation, serving on the national committee. In her writing, Rosalie enjoys exploring different poetic forms.