Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making away in the wildness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19 (NIV)



 The shouts were unintelligible,

The tone unmistakeable

Words fired at speed, 

Hard-edged as flint,

Tearing like shrapnel,

Accusation exploding around her.


Surrounded by hatred

She cowered under the the onslaught

As the baying rage of powerful men rained down,

A prelude to the stoning of an adulterer

Demanded by the law.


But the barrage abated,

Terror subsided

As she heard the dull thud

Of stones discarded,

At the retreating footsteps of her would-be judges

She dared to lift her head

And saw him, stooped, writing in the sand.


Her accusers had gone.

Just the two of them now.

Such stillness.

Dust settled

Air cleared

And she knew, 

Even before he had spoken,

Her darkness had passed

And all was made new.


 Chris Matthews