March 19, 2020
He walked out of his rocky tomb into a living garden
Breathing fresh morning air, feeling the nail scars in his hands
Remembering the thief on the cross enjoying his Father’s Paradise,
Smiling at the woman crying at his tomb.
“Mary,” he said as gentle as a spring rain.
They sat on a garden bench and talked,
She planted his tender words in her soul garden.
Through the seasons of many lives they flowered,
In this season’s garden a homeless family sleeps on soft grass beneath the empty garden bench, safe in his love. He finds them a home.
A man holding a whiskey bottle crouches under the bench, staring at the empty tomb, begging for rest from his demons. He casts out the demons.
A woman wraps her arms around the bench, longing for a return hug. He listens to her and hugs her.
Hungry children comb the grass under the bench, looking for something to eat. He feeds them.
People pile gifts of love on the bench. He accepts them unconditionally.
Others search for flowers next to the bench. Weeds behind the bench waylay others.. He helps them find flowers. He helps them pull weeds.
He leads us all to the Easter garden bench beside His empty tomb
And loves us through all gardening seasons.