THE GARDENER When the Sun begins its journey Across the heavens, Will we jump to our feet and run, Run to the tomb as we did last year? Or will we rest in our fickle belief That Jesus is risen? I ask the question because I will never forget Running to the tomb, how it changed my life. I remember being afraid as I ran. What would I say to the soldiers? I remember wanting to make fun of them. “Do you not feel ridiculous Guarding a dead man? Do you not feel ridiculous Obeying a leader so filled with fear, Fear of losing power...to a dead man?” I remember thinking how I would carefully peel away the linen cloth, Wash him, annoint him the proper way, Touch him for the last time, Lay him to rest while wanting desperately To take some part of him with me, Perhaps a lock of hair. I remember meeting Mary on the way. I remember talking with John as we ran together. I remember seeing the gardener Whom I didn’t really see or recogn