You know she lived for years, many years
after he left – and she moved from Galilee,
following those who had pledged to care
for her. Maybe it was easier to not live
in the same land where he had parabled
and miracled, healed and helped. After
he was gone, they still came to town
asking to see the house where he was
born and she would have to tell them –
again — they were in the wrong place.
Maybe it mattered most to be with
friends who knew the stories, who had
lived through the glory and the grief,
and yet, when they knocked on the door
they asked, “What did you do today?”
P. S. — There’s a new recipe.
I’m thinking you’re probably right. And I bet she continued collecting things to ponder.