Outsiders
She could be found in the streets
that polite people avoided,
where she exchanged sly winks with respectable men
for whom she was an occasional convenience.
Venturing into the marketplace that day
she sensed the disparaging glances of the women
before they hastily looked away.
There that she made her purchase of the jar
with its sweetly perfumed ointment.
The store-holder grinned as he smugly suggested
that a special man was in for a good time tonight.
He was a special man, a fellow outsider.
Listening from the edges of a crowd
the woman heard him speak of divine love,
abundant, generous and unstinting.
She heard his words of unexpected forgiveness,
and felt the friendship in his voice;
freely offered and without the usual demands.
Since childhood’s end her dealings with men
had been largely transactions of desperation;
the marketing of services, and of a commodity
that some loosely called, ‘love.’
She determined to trust in his words
and in the truth in his eyes;
and dared to hope.
But grace is strange and hard to grasp
when encountered for the first time.
Not quite able to break free
from the baggage of many years,
she came seeking the man
who had made her heart sing with gratitude
and joy. Thus she offered her own gifts:
her tears, her kisses, and the alabaster jar.
