While others haggled over meat and fish
I caressed bolts of nubby linen
examined weave of wool
marveled at the rich lightness of silk.
When I became disciple
love of finery and fabric
was all I had to give
the Risen Wearer of the unseamed cloak.
Then I forsook my search
for that embroidered purple robe
which would proclaim “Gazelle.”
Instead stitched love for Him
into the tunics of orphaned lambs,
pieced sad raw sackcloth mantles
for widowed wives,
decorated girdles to flatteringly fit
more hopeful garments.
This day I find myself
(my needle stilled—
I couldn’t move it steady for the chills)
floating above them all
(strange how the drape of fabric
changes with perspective).
What is this place I enter
all so white (the fuller* here
must be exceptional)?
Beings of dazzle walk me arm-in-arm
to where He stands
and then I see what He is holding
in His hands
garment so gleaming white
I cannot look to tell
if it is silk, linen or purest wool.
“Gazelle!” He cries,
and I am held
by warm and welcoming eyes…
I stare surprised
into amazed and tear-smudged faces
feel the sturdy weight of covers
hear the squeals of children
remember—it seems years ago—the tunic
I put down yesterday,
and know that I again
take up the shuttle
to weave the warp and woof of life
as ever—but not
for I have seen my robe
and looked into His eyes.
© 2007 by Violet Nesdoly
(Based on Acts 9:36-42)
This week Adele Kenny’s poetry prompt was to write about heaven. After reading it I thought of this poem I wrote some years ago. It was inspired by the story of Tabitha from Acts 9:36-42 in the Bible. Tabitha (who is also known as Dorcas and whose name means gazelle) was an early Christian woman who got sick, died, and was then raised to life by Peter.
I’ve read many accounts of near-death experiences, and I’m sure my imaginings were influenced by those stories in my flight of fancy about how Tabitha spent the time between dying and coming back to life.
(Though written years ago, this poem fits into my current project—poems about women of the Bible.)
This post is part of Poetry Friday, hosted today by Julie Larios at The Drift Record / Julie Larios
“Tabitha” was previously published in my book Family Reunion – 2007, Utmost Christian Writers
* fuller: The word “full” is from the Anglo-Saxon fullian, meaning “to whiten.” (See complete definition, bottom, under Bible Dictionary definition.)
12 thoughts on “Tabitha”
Some touching imagery here, Violet – especially “the drape of fabric / changes with perspective,” which is quite metaphorical. Nicely done.
This is beautiful Violet. I particularly like the I am held line. Lovely!
Touching poem, Violet. I particularly like the lines:
“feel the sturdy weight of covers
hear the squeals of children”
Thanks for sharing today! =)
Thanks so much, Matt, Catherine, Bridget, and Maureen, for stopping by and leaving a comment.
This shows such reflection, Violet. It reads so smoothly, full of heartfelt emotion too. Your poems always enlighten, the style as well as the content. Thank you! (The picture is lovely, isn’ it?)
What a nice thing to say: “…your poems enlighten, the style…” So appreciate your encouraging words, Linda!
I’m going to save this, Violet! One of my kids just woke up and I can tell my time is short, but I want to read this more carefully. Thanks for sharing it.
Lovely, Violet. Bears reading over and over.
Thank you so much, Doraine and Tabatha!
This is such a touching poem from Tabitha’s perspective. When I’ve come across this story, I’ve wondered about the shock it must’ve been for her to go from life to death… then back to life again: Definitely a dizzying transformation! Thank you for the creative way you’ve imagined this and so skillfully put it into words.