my dad,
he calls me his little morning dove
not the kind that mourns
but the kind that gets up early
and flits around in the rising sun

I help with as much as I can
dad is the gardener
for a wealthy guy
who lets us live in a small house
on the edge of the garden

usually it is quiet in the morning
and I can move among the shadows
cast by the rising sun
watch the dew lift
and hear the birds starting their song

when I saw the women coming in
through what I call the fig gate
you guessed it, right by the fig tree grove
olive gate is on the other side
when I saw the women coming in
I guessed where they were going

it was only a few days ago
that they rushed that body in
and put it in the master’s tomb
it was a new tomb
and we had carefully planted
the entrance area just last summer

they didn’t make much noise
but I catch everything
so I had to go see for myself
when I heard one exclaim
“the stone is rolled away”
that was a massive stone

I hurried over to see for myself
I stayed behind my favorite
mustard seed tree
you know little seed
but the birds love to sit on it

they shouted
“the body is gone”
gone?
then one of them
walked over to a man standing there
and said, “gardener, where have you taken the body?”
ha
he didn’t look like my dad

and then it hit like a flash
he was the body
that had come in dead
and here he was talking
to the women
and they weren’t mourning
but were dancing around like birds
on the wet dew

then they took off
and everyone was gone

a while later
these two men
came running in
out of breath
to check the tomb
it was still empty
what did they expect?
it would change
when a man came to see it?

did I mention the angels?
sort of like a bird
all right
angels only have wings
in our imaginations
but they get around fast anyway

what a morning
I can’t wait to tell my dad
about this morning
when the angels came
and the dead man talked
and the women shouted
and the birds sang

Jerry Holsopple chases light, shadow and reflections as a photographer, practices sculpture building with steel and glass, paints icons and writes music, all as a way to tell stories. He retired from teaching visual and communication arts at Eastern Mennonite University in 2025.