41 Comments

Procia or Procula, later Claudia Procula.

Expand full comment

I did discover on Wikipedia that there is a lot of unofficial musing on Pilate's wife, and she is regarded as a saint in the Eastern church.

Expand full comment

How amazing! Have they given her a name?

Expand full comment

Pilate’s wife was unnamed and only identified in relationship țo her husband.

Wives/women had their “place”.

Were her dreams even (remotely) heard?

Was Pilate of weak-mindedness?

Or was the devil in the works?

Your poem provoked so many thoughts…just as it should at Easter.

Expand full comment

💛🌿

Expand full comment

I wonder if her dreams continued to disturb her for the rest of her life--or maybe she had perfect peace. We will never know... ❤️

Expand full comment

No, we won't know -- but I hope she received some peace. Or at least some hope, after the next round of stories started circulating in Jerusalem.

Easter peace and joy to you, Ann. 💛

Expand full comment

Only you would notice that one line and then make a wonderful poem from it! I don't think that line ever registered with me. Thanks!

Expand full comment

My poet-self is a kid-self who sees things going on at the edge of the picture and comments on them loudly. She's a handful, but I'm grateful to her for the poems! Thanks so much for reading, Rose.

Expand full comment

And where did you find that young grey donkey, silly with dignity? Happy that you did!

Expand full comment

Isn't he a dear? There's a reference in one of the Gospels (maybe it's also Matthew?) that the donkey Jesus sends the disciples to find is young, "never ridden." I imagined that like most decent creatures he'd do his best to live up to meeting Jesus -- and if his best is slightly comic, being a donkey, well, that's fine too. 🩶

Expand full comment

Thank you for telling me this.

Expand full comment

Oooooo, I love this! For all the deep and profound reasons fellow readers mention, but also how it flits around to the scenes where the governor’s wife may have learned of or encountered Jesus. Some of my friends at home and I especially love the line about the “young gray donkey, silly with dignity.”

Expand full comment

So glad you and your friends noticed the donkey, Petrina! Imagine the little guy minding his own business and then someone gets on his back and all of a sudden he's leading a parade ...!

Expand full comment

What a guy! If an angel appeared to me I’d sign on to any number of numbskull ideas.

Expand full comment

😇🪽

Expand full comment

Well done, this is brilliant! I love how you shine the light on that one forgotten, small part of the story and remind us how it echoes the bigger picture.

Expand full comment

Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Donna!

Expand full comment

Such an interesting tidbit of one of the four readings of that day's events. So curious. I hope she cut him off sex for the rest of his life. Speaking of this topic, I always wondered how Joseph was okay with Mary getting pregnant immaculately. He must have been an exceedingly trusting man. 99.99% of the men of his time would have accused her of either infidelity or witchcraft and either way, things would not have gone well for our deal old Mary.

Expand full comment

Haha! I'm guessing cutting him off likely didn't work but she would have had her ways to get her point across anyway.

Expand full comment

The least he deserved...! I hope so too.

You have a lot of company in marveling at Joseph's forbearance. In one of the Gospels (Matthew again!) he makes a plan to back out of the relationship in the least damaging way possible, given the times ... but gets a heads-up from an angel that the conception is an act of God and he should go ahead and marry the girl. And does, bless him.

Expand full comment

This is wonderful.

Expand full comment

Thanks so much, Margaret Ann.

Expand full comment

wow. I hadn't ever given much thought to the wife or her dream. Or how much courage it would take for her to speak of it. Thank you.

Expand full comment

It's a poet's job (this poet's, anyway) to point at what's going on over there at the edge of the story. I'm glad it gave you to think! Thanks so much for reading, Nancy. 🌼

Expand full comment

Enjoyed this and loved your afterthought too !

Expand full comment

Thanks so much, Maureen!

Expand full comment

I love this: the cadences, the swing from one vignette to the next, the capture of moments within moments, and especially the incredible question of what it meant to the sufferer.

I'll add just one note that captures my thoughts from the story itself: Pilate's wife was the only person who spoke in Jesus' defense during the trial. He did not speak for himself. The crowd turned against him. She didn't argue his guilt--she knew that Pilate knew he was innocent. But she spoke for him in the only way she could. <3

Expand full comment

She did, God love her. Thank you for sharing your reflections on the poem and on the story, Amy.

Expand full comment

I am always here for art that restores forgotten women's lives and words to the world.

Expand full comment

Thanks so much, Tara. Fun fact: this poem is one of a series I've written over years about women who encountered Jesus in the Gospel stories ... mostly unnamed women (in the stories), some silent (in the stories) and some speaking, all distinct and remarkable individuals and treated as such by Himself -- if not always by the preachers who've followed.

More poems from that series will probably show up here over time. They're some of my favorites.

Expand full comment

Poignant, intimate observation of a peripheral character whose dream held truth albeit no power. A reminder to always speak your truth even if its message falls on deaf ears.

“…can be enough sometimes, can sometimes still be more” is not clear to me🤓. Magnificent poem.

Expand full comment

Thanks so much, Shari. I too am still sitting with the mystery of that last line -- maybe someday one of us will understand it...! ❤️

Expand full comment