Silence is a green, secluded garden,
Where you may walk at leisure, and
speak with the Beloved ...
Leaving the outer world of noise and hurry
To walk serenely on prayer's holy sod.
Silence is a garden sweet with fragrance,
Its grasses nurtured by faith's gentle rain,
Its every bloom a link with God,
our Creator.
Once you have wandered there,
you will return again,
And in the garden's beauty,
be made whole ...
In the Silence,
the quiet garden of the Soul.
Christianity arrives in a Platonic landscape where the body is a husk around a soul, imperfect and soon to be shrugged off. For some pagans, the Christian notion of a resurrected body was distinctly odd, especially as there was no possibility of floating off somewhere more etheric. In the next life you still had a body, just not that one that slowly became dust... The body is not a tomb, it's a pleasure, and it goes where we go because we're completely bound up with it.