maria dossett

i tried to write another piece of a collection

to process how i am supposed to move forward with You

after years of running away

to tell the world “here is how i am doing,

after years of pushing you aside,”

it hurt my feelings, the way they stole You away

i never knew i could lose something in such a 

disheartening, crushing, blow

after making peace with the precious, safe design

She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.”

but per usual

as i thought i was lost from You for years

i have actually thought of You every day since

• tender
• writing
• fiat
• playhouse

“Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.”

how am i doing?

i couldn’t find the words to tell You

so i wrote them down

every ache and every anger and all the pieces 

that i thought You weren’t going to care about anymore

and You told me You would

and You took Your time, to not scare me away

Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,”* which means Teacher.

i thought You were mad at me

i’m still mad at myself,

but i can’t find the reasons anymore

and how dare You promise me freedom

but ask me to work for it

ask me to let us take our time

wait for me to take Your hands

just make me want You, make me see

how stupid i could be to leave

make it better, make me feel like myself again

but i am 26 now,

far from 18 or 21 or 13

and You cannot love me 

any where

any who

any how

any why

any when

then right now

Mary of Magdala went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and what he told her.

i hear You here

i saw You everywhere

i know You didn’t leave

i know You never can

He made me safe again

in words and homes and cracks and crevices

He is better than i once thought

i am safer than i once thought