Before Easter

God, I am tempted to jump to Easter
and neglect the cross.
I want the happy ending
but not the good death.
Stop me in my headlong leap over the grave.
Let me descend into the darkness,
held in your hands.
Let me see what in me must die,
what I must let go of.
Let me see the deep pain you endure
in order to descend with me, to heal me.
Let me go with you down into the thick darkness
where death struggles for me,
and loses.
Let me see my grave opened like a wound,
and left open forever, a spring.
Only then, place a flower in my hands,
and raise me into the soft light,
bearing with me always the smell of earth.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

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