Magdalen

The spilt perfume
flooding from the broken jar
filled the space with fragrance
of death and sacrifice
as once before.
But the familiar voice
speaking my name
and the grip on my shoulder
turned me around
from death to life.
Joy came in the morning.

 

tRuth 2016

image copyright tRuth http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/