I’d heard so much about him
This prophet
And now I see him
He’s everything they said, and more
An ordinary man in most ways
And yet extraordinarily so
It was his eyes
Those pools of love
Looking at me, in me
Right to the core of my being
Nothing was hidden as I tried to look away
I looked down at the floor, at anything
It was then that I saw his feet
Dirty, Dusty, Unwashed and Neglected
Those beautiful feet, feet that had walked my way, had come to find me
My shame turned to outrage
How could they treat him like this?
I had to do something and so I did
I got down on my knees and I kissed him
My tears flowed like fountains
And I kissed him, I kissed him, I kissed him
I had in my hand my alabaster box
It contained all of my worldly wealth
My security for my future
My shame and my hopelessness
I took off the lid
And I began to pour my oil
All over those beautiful feet
Its’ fragrance filled the room
It was around us and on us
On his feet
My hair
My face
My neck
My shoulders
My chest and hips
Now running down my legs
And covering my feet
Now he’s talking to me
He’s telling me
That I’m healed, whole, cleansed, sanctified, glorified, forgiven
His words fall like freedom, as he lifts me to my feet
I walk out of that room
With my head held high
And his fragrance goes with me.
Sally Walker-Smith