You caught them by surprise on the third morning at the day's awakening. Shedding oil and spices in the way the women run in fear.
Peter sees the early morning emptiness of the tomb. Felt the warmth of the linen cloths and moth-like pulse across his brow He is risen now.
Mary looks into the darkness
the tomb of all her sadness.
Firmly facing her fears
until angels shimmer in dance.
Mary is not mistaken
thinking you to be the gardener.
The earthiness of your presence
Clutching the shoots of new life
Mary has found you
And with joy mounting all sorrow
Reaches out to hold you
“Do not cling to me”
There was no returning
To the master she once knew.
When you came to Thomas, the Twin
you came to all of us
We celebrate the twin in us
faith and doubt.
Questions fly kites whose cords run
To wells of faith in the deep earth.
On the road to Emmaus
You wander like a minstrel
into all our conversations
restoring our past
and we become the tellers of the future
What a surprise for Peter
He has had enough and will return to work.
“I am going fishing”
Safely in the smell of the sea he lets down the nets
And there you are on the shore smiling like the Buddha
In the resurrection appearances
They know you in the breaking of the bread
In the sharing of a hearty meal
You are remembered
You are re-membered.
In the Upper Room you came to your disciples
And breathed on them.
Like a lover blowing a kiss
And in that moment
You gave them the Guide
You rose on the third day
I rise everyday
And because of you
My story will meander through the eons
Until love is worked out in me
Now this beautiful body of the gardener
That walks through doors
That carries its story in hands and side
Will I get one?
And can I choose?
Will you rather who fixed broken bodies
Let mine find its fullest beauty