Easter Morning - Whispers in a Garden

The birds were awake

at the mere hint of daybreak

and their songs

filled the air

as if to praise God

for all that had been accomplished …

as if they wanted 

to be the first to shout,

“Christ is risen .. Christ is risen indeed!”

Yet, the woman 

did not notice the joy

for her sorrow was great.

She whispered

his name 

and it echoed 

from an empty tomb -

“MY LORD”.

She had seen him

beaten …

bloodied …

mocked …

crucified …

dead.

Still, she whispered,

“MY LORD.”

Still, she heard 

only an echo.

Staring into the emptiness,

she again whispered,

“MY LORD.

Where have they taken him?”

His name 

has been whispered.

A presence is felt

and there is a rustling

in the gardens

of her life.

In the fog and mist

of her morning

and in the darkness 

of her dawn,

another whisper

is heard - “Mary.”

Oh, such blessed whispers

in a garden -

“My Lord” …

“Mary” …

“My Father and your Father” …

“My God and your God”.

The whispers are no more!

Thank God, 

the whispers are no more!

Shouts, yes SHOUTS

are heard.

Grace and mercy flows

down from the cross.  

Love walks out 

of a tomb, 

emptied on the third day.

Our names are 

whispered in a garden.

Go and tell others …

“CHRIST IS RISEN!  CHRIST IS RISEN INDEED!”