The Scarlet Cord

“A Woman Of Faith”

Her house is small, sitting

High upon the city wall

It has been a long night

As soldiers sit about campfires

Glancing at her house

Snickering and laughing

Rahab the Harlot lives here!

Dawn begins to break as

The last red glow of embers

Die to the earth

She peers out her window

Where a red rose hung the

Night before

Rising early, veiling her face

For no one must see this woman

Of disgrace

As she runs along the wall, down

The stairs into the cities’ streets

She is anxious

For she has a special errand to do

To replace this rose with a scarlet

Cord

Her form silhouetted against the

Breaking light

Clutching her meager coins

She hastens on

Over cobblestone streets into

The very heart of the city

Still asleep

The blue glow of the horizon

Gently fades in the distance

She is headed for the market

Place just before dawn

…the noise is loud, people

Selling goods, people

Praying, children crying,

Animals brawling

Quietly slipping

Through the crowds going

To market, to secure a cord

Of scarlet…

Tables laden with fruits

Pomegranates in rich red hues

Spices from the East, dates and

Raisin cakes, amongst onions

And leeks, lentils and beans

And loaves of bread, colorful

Skirts, sandals and shoes, young

Girls dancing to the fiddle and flute

But these are not what she is

Looking for

Among all of these

Wares, a simple scarlet cord is

Her desire and prayer

Tighter yet, holding her veil

Against her head, she slowly

Drifts from table to table,

Quietly bearing the shame of

Her reputation

The best threads must be

Purchased to fill this need

That she and her family may

Be spared

Threads of scarlet interwoven

With gold…

Even as a little girl,

Watching her mother do her

Trade, she had wanted

Something better

When she had become older

She had continued what had

Been handed down from

Mother to daughter

Looking down, one table

Catches her eye, there lies a

Cord, just the right one, coins

Tightly held are released and

She hurry’s back home…

The sun is rising, the sleeping

City awakens, as she passes

Worshippers climbing steps to

Strange altars, bringing food to

Appease their gods

Garlands of flowers to hang on

These idols, breads and fruits

To place by their sides…

She has never felt at ease, even

As a little girl, kneeling before

These gods with closed eyes,

Who cannot see, trying to please

Them with words and prayers

They don’t hear or answer

Arriving home, the cord is

Placed in the window, showering

Grace for those to see…

For just the night before God

Had sent His spies to capture

Her city, but the scarlet cord

She dutifully hung in her window

When soldiers passed by

Saved Rahab and

Her family

A woman of disgrace had become a

Woman of faith!

Excerpts from the book ‘The Scarlet Cord’

Read more at: www.donnaspoetry.com

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