They say that scent is

the closest sense to memory;

I wouldn’t know, but Jesus,

enveloped in the memory of myrrh –

his mother Mary eked it out,

birth by birth –

his mortality laid out end to end,

Jesus remembered swaddling love.

One can only imagine Judas

had other memories

that smelled less sweet;

I wouldn’t know.

This entry was posted in lectionary reflection, poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Anointing

  1. Pingback: 10 Nisan An entrance for a king | Belgian Biblestudents - Belgische Bijbelstudenten

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