He Spoke Her Name

She would not flee
his deserted grave,
where she wept
in the garden alone that day.
In deepest anguish,
she bore her pain,
not expecting to see his face.

He spoke; she failed
to recognize
who stood before
her tear-filled eyes.
"Where is he?!"
in despair she cried,
and then he spoke her name.

He spoke her name;
at once, she heard
such tenderness in that sweet word.
Her heart, in recognition, stirred.
She ran to him in haste.

Speak my name, I long to hear
that voice familiar in my ear,
the tone, inflections, so sincere,
his offer of generous grace.

Like her, I want my heart to be
yearning for him to speak to me,
hear my name and, like Mary, see
my Savior face to face.

(Based on John 20:10-18)