The Embrace in the Garden

How can you say, “Don’t try to hold me?”

Wrenched from my weeping

Into your unreasonable joy

I heard you speak my name

Knew it was you

You,  and more than you, more than I can grasp

But now, my cheek against your cheek,

Your hand stroking my hair,

I whisper the name I have always used for you

Rabboni!

Mary!

Rabboni!

You whisper, delighted, of going and telling

But how could I not want to hold you here

Cheek against cheek,

Nail-scarred hands upon hair?