Just before dawn on Easter Sunday, Mary Magdalene walks to the grave of Jesus. she sees his risen form but does not recognise him

The torn edges of life

are ragged like the sea

While the moon keeps watch

Over the loneliness of God

I knew you as the singing of my soul

The music of my eyes

Silenced by sudden storm

My footsteps lost on fallen olives

Rich and ripe

Decaying into dry dead earth

The dust powders my stale perfume

And falls in ash on the fire of my heart

The blood-wine drained from the empty cup,

The bread is really broken

No symbol, no token

But my life is buried there

And who is this stranger by my lover’s grave?