I imagine that I am a seed:
a corn, or a bean, or a grain of paddy (rice).
I am buried beneath the soft soil.
I zoom-in to see a magnified image of myself under the soil.
I am surrounded by the grains of sand – the lid of the tomb.
I am embraced by Mother Earth.
It is dark.
It is quiet.
There is some moisture and plenty of warmth.
The seed is apparently dead, at least for now.
Yet, there is so much fecundity around.
Suddenly…
I see in slow motion how the seed begins to swell.
It sheds itself of its coat.
The cotyledons effortlessly split.
And gently from the core of the seed there is a movement of life.
New life.
A tender root germinates as if the seed wants to stand on its feet.
Then the seed rests to gather renewed strength.
Gradually a determined shoot springs up pushing aside the grains of soil.
When overblown it looks like an earthquake.
The stone of the grave is rolled away.
The gentle shoot rises as if stretching forth its arms towards the bright sun.
The faintish first leaf struggles to see the light of day.
There is freshness.
Beneath the soil the seed is no more.
The empty tomb.
Why look for the living among the dead?
A ray of the sun glistens through the dew drop
at the tip of the fresh leaf that softly raises its head.
This is Resurrection.
The resurrection of Jesus.
And mine too!
Peacefully I stay in that awareness.
I contemplate:
The mystery of Resurrection!
Sahaya G. Selvam, sdb
Nairobi, 25 April 2011