While I worked as a peace activist I cared for toddlers a few hours a week. It was such a relief to escape the darkness of nuclear weapons and attitudes of war by immersing myself in the imagination of two-year-olds for a few hours. My favorite time was when they woke up from their nap. Happy Easter!
Six somnolent toddlers
nestle in daycare cots
clutching stuffed animal amulets-
their companions into the dreamworld.
One by one they rub sandman eyes
and extend their little arms to me
as budding tree branches stretch to the sun.
We sit and rock
to the rhythm of hushed monosyllables
identifying body parts and objects.
I wonder if Jesus touched his resurrected body
exclaiming, “My eyes!” “My nose!” “My ear!”
My war-worn heart hungers for hope.
Who can give it?
The children.
The children teach trust.
I rub my purblind eyes,
and stretch out my arms,
Born again.
© rita h kowats 1991-2014
Photo Credit: “Freedom” by citybreezes at https://www.sumo.fm/#profile/p=2
Spirituality Without Borders: Reflections on Spiritual Practice 
An, this makes me long so hard for my little son, now no longer little, that it hurts.
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May his adulthood be for you and him, a sweet resurrection!
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Thank you for writing Easter Stretching–blessed resurrection day to you!
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You are so welcome. And blessings be yours as well.
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