Martha may mind many things, but Mary, one,
For in the end all waters into one sea pour,
As all stars vanish with the rising sun.
And Martha may chide Mary for the work undone,
The broken dish in shards, the unswept floor—
For Martha may mind many things; but Mary, one;
For Mary sits in stillness as a soul astun
To bide the silence at creation’s core
As all stars vanish with the rising sun.
Martha, for her part, has work she mustn’t shun,
Provisions to be bought and put in store,
For Martha may mind many things—but Mary, one;
And Mary knows that Mary’s work is done,
And what she is, she is forevermore,
As all stars vanish with the rising sun.
For in the end all waters into one sea run,
And there is only oneness beyond heaven’s door,
Though Martha may mind many things—but Mary, one,
As all stars vanish with the rising sun.