“Like how much do you sell this?”

“But customer, you’ve never bought something of this worth before,”

“Are you expecting someone?” she asks incredulously, 

I do not even bother to answer her, 

The distance I have walked to get here is enough, 

But truly it  is nothing compared to finding Him,

For where to get Him is  where I am seeking, 

Longing to pour it all on Him, 

My all my life, 

There I spot on Him in a house, 

It looks like Simon’s,

For it is six days to Passover, 

So I understand why He is in Bethany,   

Straight I walk into the place He sat, 

I was quiet about my intentions, 

My heart has  enough words for this, 

I slowly bring  out the ointment in the alabaster box, 

I slowly pour  it on His head, 

Pouring the oil all on Him, 

The smell of it fills the house,  

So much that they that were with Him rose against what I did, 

For this they say to my act, 

To what purpose is this waste?, 

“For this ointment might have been sold for much,”

“And given to the poor,”

But my Lord says that this I do, 

In preparation for His burial,

This I pour and I count not the cost,

For no one was there when He found me,

When He healed me,

When He invited me to be part of His own, 

There is no better way to accept His proposal, 

Than to pour my oil, my all, my life in worship of the One, 

Who promises to come back for me as His bride, 

I have nothing to lose,

In giving my all, 

Nothing to lose, 

In spending my life, 

I have nothing to lose in worship.

(Edited by Iyanu Fatoba).