Woman, why don’t we go somewhere?
Night and day, men coerced to buy her for a song
Eyes like a dove, wings clipped, unable to fly
Vulnerable, broken, pawned and stung by lies
Belittled by pain, her life a prison without bars
Forsaken by all, ‘a deal’s a deal’, she was told
A fallen woman, half-mad she wept and wept inside
How did you fall so low, Magdalene?
Woman, why did you do the things you did?
Whispers taunting, sly judgments harsh
Then touched by His love inexpressibly tender
Seven demons fled as He demanded they leave her
Anointing Him before a brash company of men
Sweet nard mixed with tears, a year’s wages spilled forth
Men mocked, yet at His feet she washed with perfumed hair
Leave her alone, The Master said. She prepares me for my death.
Woman, tell me, why do you weep?
Strange and brutal question, on a day impossible to bear
Torn apart by the final curtain, and death’s cross too cruel
Sunlight failed to warm her, her heart broken near an empty tomb
‘Please tell me where they have taken him!’ The aching cry!
Mary…my Magdalene…His words rendered peace untold
Do you not know it is I?, and running on windswept hills,
Alive with truth, Magdalene rejoiced, ‘My Saviour lives!’