When you met me at the well that day,
daring to see me for the whole of who I am
and not the seven fragments 
and not the seven men
to whom I had given then
so many pieces of my heart,
you saw through me, yes,
but dared to meet my eyes
with only love, respect, and dignity.
Blessing, you cast out the spinning selves
that had me seeing me as someone lesser than.

Later, when they threw stones at me 
chasing the girl and me away with mockery, 
you took us in with kindness. 
Laughing as you lifted her,
you told me all was as it should be
and the way ever, always, opening up. 
You, believer in us all, found 
in your heart some place
for me and we made our home
with you. With you, I learned to trust in God
and man again, seeing love reflected in you.

On our day of celebration, you, Jesus, could
hardly be bothered by the wine running out.
We were so in love and there was
no room for any problem. 
There was no shadow then
when we three became 
one family. It was only later,
in the garden at Gethsemane
where our little lion was conceived when I knew
as you knew you would drink from the sacred cup
of mystery and go where I could not yet follow.

On the hill, which seemed so soon so far away,
they killed you for your love and you 
gave your life for one, for all,
then rose up from the grave, 
coming back to life only to tell me
I could no more touch your face, 
or kiss the hollow of your cheek. 
Heartbroken, still I vowed to be 
through time your strong tower, guardian
of your truth and legacy growing now inside me.
I vowed to keep faith, to share your gospel of love. 

And so it was I set out then on a mission,
determined, so certain of your great return
and always of your love.
So many times you came to me.
When all those who walked with us
turned against me and claimed you
as their own, shutting me out,
you stood side by side with me, 
opening again my heart to love
that stands strong and ever true , a certainty
when everything else seemed lost to life and time.

For all I saw and all I felt, for all you were and
who you are to me, for all you knew
and who you knew that I would be...
For all the rivers running red, for all the words
we might have said to one another
beneath a thousand singing stars
in some other storied time...
I offer now, through this small voice, my testimony
to all that was or might have been and is.
I cast reason to the angry wind in favor of choosing
a December dream where I and love are born again.