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’
Donna's Poetry Blog 