Showing posts with label Love Poem To A King. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love Poem To A King. Show all posts

Thursday, March 12, 2026

The Rose of Sharon

 

 

Mary knew He was the fragrance,

the Rose of Sharon,

when the alabaster shattered

and the scent filled up the room. 

 

It was called a beautiful waste—

a too-costly jar, and should be sold

for such and such a price

and elsewhere used. 

 

Worth one year’s wages,

the ointment mingled with His blood

and dried as it clung to Him

from cross to tomb.

 

Her precious scent was spent

and followed Him

from Bethany to Calvary

—now onto me.

 

So, how shall I waste

such precious offering,

my palms perfumed

from the hollow of His Eternal Bloom.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

“I am the rose of Sharon, And the lily of the valleys.”  Song of Solomon 2:1

And when Jesus was in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to Him having an alabaster flask of very costly fragrant oil, and she poured it on His head as He sat at the table.  But when His disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste?  For this fragrant oil might have been sold for much and given to the poor.”

But when Jesus was aware of it, He said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a good work for Me.  For you have the poor with you always, but Me you do not have always.  For in pouring this fragrant oil on My body, she did it for My burial.  Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”  Matthew 26:6-13


 


 

street art, Valley of the Sun, Photo © Jennifer Wagner 

OLN


Sunday, April 13, 2025

Fully Hope End Up

 


When pain escapes,

it’s a relief.

 

Like when my mom

describes my grandma’s passing,

 

her body gripped by pain

for so many years,

 

bent in the shape

of the chair

 

where she spent

most of her last days.

 

The whoosh—

a gone pain

 

released from a mortal body.

 

I felt something like it this morning.

That One Certain Memory

 

blinking like a cursor

when I woke.

 

Do you have one, too?

That memory

 

always accompanied

by the pain that bent you, still bends you?

 

It was gone.

 

And my heart stretched out like a palm

on Sunday,

 

hope-end up

to You.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

Poem-a-Day 13:  write a “Full (blank)” poem, make it your title

NaPoWriMo 13

 

Photo:  inside The Mission in the Sun © 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

a poem for palm Sunday