Inspiring Story: Mary Magdalene By Kahlil Gibran

An astonishingly beautiful and moving story by Kahlil Gibran, written from Mary Magdalene’s point of view, which tells of her first meeting with Jesus, and how through transcendent love, she is returned to her true and most beautiful self.

Transcript

It was the month of June when I saw him for the first time.

He was walking in the wheat fields when I passed him with my handmaidens and he was alone.

The rhythm of his step was different from other men's and the movement of his body was like naught I had seen before.

Men do not pace the earth in that manner and even now I do not know whether he walked fast or slow.

My handmaidens pointed their fingers at him and spoke in shy whispers to one another and I stayed my steps for a moment and raised my hand to hail him but he did not turn his face and he did not look at me and I hated him.

I was swept back into myself and I was cold as if I had been in a snowdrift and I shivered.

That night I beheld him in my dreaming and they told me afterward that I screamed in my sleep and was restless upon my bed.

It was in the month of August that I saw him again through my window.

He was sitting in the shadow of the cypress tree across my garden and he was still as if he had been carved out of stone like the statues in Antioch and other cities of the north country.

And my slave,

The Egyptian,

Came to me and said,

That man is here again,

He is sitting there across your garden.

And I gazed at him and my soul quivered within me for he was beautiful.

His body was single and each part seemed to love every other part.

Then I clothed myself with a raiment of Damascus and I left my house and walked towards him.

Was it my aloneness or was it his fragrance that drew me to him?

Was it a hunger in my eyes that desired comeliness?

Or was it his beauty that saw the light of my eyes?

Even now I do not know.

I walked to him with my scented garments and my golden sandals,

The sandals the Roman captain had given me,

Even the sandal.

When I reached him I said,

Good morrow to you.

And he said,

Good morrow to you,

Miriam.

And he looked at me and his night eye saw me as no man had seen me.

And suddenly I was as if naked and I was shy.

Yet he had only said,

Good morrow to you.

And then I said to him,

Will you not come to my house?

And he said,

Am I not already in your house?

I did not know what he meant then,

But I know now.

And I said,

Will you not have wine and bread with me?

And he said,

Yes,

Miriam,

But not now,

Not now,

Not now,

He said.

And the voice of the sea was in those two words,

And the voice of the wind and the trees.

And when he said them unto me,

Life spoke to death.

For mind you,

My friend,

I was dead.

I was a woman who had divorced her soul.

I was living apart from this self which you now see.

I belonged to all men and to none.

They called me Harlot,

And a woman possessed of seven devils.

I was cursed and I was envied.

But when his dawn eyes looked into my eyes,

All the stars of my night faded away,

And I became Miriam,

Only Miriam.

A woman lost to the earth she had known,

And finding herself in new places.

And now again,

I said to him,

Come into my house and share bread and wine with me.

And he said,

Why do you bid me to be your guest?

And I said,

I beg you to come into my house.

And it was all that was sod in me,

And all that was sky in me calling unto him.

Then he looked at me,

And the noontide of his eyes was upon me.

And he said,

You have many lovers,

And yet I alone love you.

Other men love themselves in your nearness.

I love you in yourself.

Other men see a beauty in you that shall fade away sooner than their own years.

But I see in you a beauty that shall not fade away.

And in the autumn of your days,

That beauty shall not be afraid to gaze at itself in the mirror,

And it shall not be offended.

I alone love the unseen in you.

Then he said in a low voice,

Go away now.

If this cypress tree is yours,

And you would not have me sit in its shadow,

I will walk my way.

And I cried to him,

And I said,

Master,

Come to my house.

I have incense to burn for you,

And a silver basin for your feet.

You are a stranger,

And yet not a stranger.

I entreat you,

Come to my house.

Then he stood up and looked at me,

Even as the seasons might look down upon the fields.

And he smiled,

And he said again,

All men love you for themselves.

I love you for yourself.

And then he walked away.

But no other man ever walked the way he walked.

Was it a breath born in my garden that moved to the east?

Or was it a storm that would shake all things to their foundations?

I knew not.

But on that day,

The sunset of his eyes slew the dragon in me,

And I became a woman.

I became Miriam.

Miriam of Mid-Jal.

Reviews

Beautiful. Much as my gnosis portrays. Thank you. ✨✨✨🙏🏽🙏🏽😀

Great choice, beautifully told story. Thank you 🙏

Being seen, illuminated and captivated, held, known = wow! Fabulous offering by John Siddique!www.compassioncourse.org and www.gratefulness.org and omnipresence come 2 mind as my heART opens and expands when listening to this offering, ahimsa

So, so beautiful!
I didn’t know this poem existed, but I’ll be looking for a printed copy.
Thank you so much for your beautiful work John

I Love Gibran, and yet had not ever heard these incredible words that carry truth, vision & light.
I have long Loved hearing John read poems, and inspiring pieces he has written.
I just discovered this reading thanks to an IT suggestion after my meditation.
Gratitude, Joun
Gratitude, Gibran,
Gratitude, IT.
Ellen
💖

Awww, the way it was read...It made me cry. Thank you, John 🙏🏽🫶🌸🩷🍃

That was beautiful 💕thank you 🙏💫

Awe inspiring energetic and deeply palpable story. Miracles do happen

Thanks John 🙏 perfect timing 💫

Here's to being truly seen, and realizing it.
🙏🏽🙏🏽✨️

This is so beautiful. Thank you!

I loved the perspective of Miriam of seeing Jesus and Jesus seeing her true self. Thank you for sharing this story.

This is wonderful. So evocatively read - thank you 🙏

Beautiful! Forgiveness is the most healing thing. Blessed.🙏🌱⚘️
When was this written?

Hello
John,
This piece has me thoughtful
I'm intrigued by your choice.
Wish you joy in being "home."

Thank you for sharing🙏

Beautiful in every way. Touch my heart and soul.

Beautiful. Thank you 🙏

Beautiful, the rebirth of self, born from forgiveness.

A poem for you.

My Dear,

I saw her as she waited...
I heard as she whispered...
I touched her as she wept...
I tasted the essence of her as I kissed her tears...

She watched me as I saw her...
She spoke her truth while I listened to her...
She shared her soul when I touched her...
She poured her spirit into me with the drop of that tear.
My dear

I could listen to you for ages. Thank you for all the beautiful poetry you bring to life. 🌷