I will go to the garden of my heart
and kneel there in the presence of my God.
Winter’s leaf-drifts I will clear
with the robin and blackbird as my help-mates.
Black-brown earth I will dig into readiness
and its warmth will cherish seeds to life.
I will plant roses and sweet herbs for his table,
herbs of grace to share with my Lord.
I will water my garden with tears of joy.
I will rest from my work in dappled sunlight.
I will sit with my Lord in dappled sunshade,
resting and watching this garden grow.
I will watch and wait with the Lord my God,
and in the glory of each paschal morning
he will greet me here and will know my face:
I will meet him here and will know his grace.