Air, Hope, Love and Magdala
Sad breath of April, and hot noon, when at 3 PM, a cross stands in Golgotha
Whipped and lashed scars bleed, there is flesh and skin
Now here today, what has changed?
When you still mock and strut your wicked, wicked ways
I saw they were too proud to do the parade, they thought was mardi gras - and so before the holy Wednesday - the party and blast of dancing in the streets
Across time, waved leaves on air - the breath of noon still hot and waiting
So incomplete and insincere - like the dust on my forehead
Not solemn and free - unlike the kites
The highways are empty and gleaming hot, April heat blows air
Until Sunday - at dawn in a baby's crying I awake leaping in joy
going to the tomb -
The altar is a tomb where all the dead rise and pray here.
Moments of solitude all creatures work until eternity
He is risen.
And so Like Magdala - I anointed perfume
feet, thighs, loins, body, his face and hair
They're cold but the daze in his eyes gets warm in my heart
The air has changed - it is foggy yellow and cool white ice
The baby smiles, the son cradles the baby, and I - a mother of the air, pours all the perfume in the wood, on him - so all will awake from slumber,
Salvation is here, from the cross, and the rising Christ!
Whipped and lashed scars bleed, there is flesh and skin
Now here today, what has changed?
When you still mock and strut your wicked, wicked ways
I saw they were too proud to do the parade, they thought was mardi gras - and so before the holy Wednesday - the party and blast of dancing in the streets
Across time, waved leaves on air - the breath of noon still hot and waiting
So incomplete and insincere - like the dust on my forehead
Not solemn and free - unlike the kites
The highways are empty and gleaming hot, April heat blows air
Until Sunday - at dawn in a baby's crying I awake leaping in joy
going to the tomb -
The altar is a tomb where all the dead rise and pray here.
Moments of solitude all creatures work until eternity
He is risen.
And so Like Magdala - I anointed perfume
feet, thighs, loins, body, his face and hair
They're cold but the daze in his eyes gets warm in my heart
The air has changed - it is foggy yellow and cool white ice
The baby smiles, the son cradles the baby, and I - a mother of the air, pours all the perfume in the wood, on him - so all will awake from slumber,
Salvation is here, from the cross, and the rising Christ!
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