Description
“Where are your accusers?” ( John 8 )
| words – Jason Harris / paint – Julie McKnight |
“Where are those fellows?”
The ones who came to trap you and me
The ones who picked up stones and threw them to the dust from which they came
They picked up stones like Cain because their offering is insufficient as well
The ones who act as marshals in the condemnation Day parade
The ones who thought the words I spoke into the air and the air that I spoke into their lungs was to be used
for the crushing of a hurting girl who just got confused
The ones who might have had their names written in the sand
But aren’t written on my hand
They aren’t written on my heart either
But you and I, here, in the dessert, still alive and breathing
Yes, my daughter, the Son is still beating
Us
We’re both people who have seen evil and learned to love mercy
And I have a lot to give
70×7
Come to this well, You’ll never thirst again
Encamped in the darkness is not an absence of light
A vision of the invisible, indivisible like me walking into the night
They can’t separate me from the dark because that’s where I formed this planet
And I’ll be keeping up with the gardening until it’s time to pull the blanket
Anticipation rising like the tide of mercy and grace
They can’t condemn you
And neither will I
Your disgrace is under my wave
I have repaired the broken parts of you
My grace is fresh as the morning residue of fingerprints in the sand
turn from your shame
Walk into the feast I have planned.”
