Risen One,
come, meet me
in the garden of my life.
Lure me into elation.
Revive my silent hope.
Coax my dormant dreams.
Raise up my neglected gratitude.
Entice my tired enthusiasm.
Give life to my faltering relationships.
Roll back the stone of my indifference.
Unwrap the deadness in my spiritual life.
Impart heartiness in my work.
Risen One,
send me forth as a disciple of your unwavering love,
a messenger
of your unlimited joy.
Resurrected One,
may I become
ever more convinced
that your presence lives on,
and on, and on,
and on.
Awaken me!
Awaken me!
— Joyce Rupp from Out of the Ordinary
Easter in Wales
A garden inside me, unknown, secret,
neglected for years,
the layers of its soil deep and thick.
Trees in the corners with branching arms
and the tangled briars like broken nets.
Sunrise through the misted orchard,
morning sun turns silver on the pointed twigs,
I have woken from the sleep of ages and I am not sure
if I am really seeing, or dreaming,
or simply astonished
walking towards sunrise
to have stumbled into the garden
where the stone was rolled from the tomb of longing.
— David Whyte from River Flow: New and Selected Poems