The two questions asked here are the only ones a troubled mind ever needs: why do you weep, and whom do you seek. Grief always answers wrongly, certain that its treasure is a thing that can be carried off and hidden, so it bargains for a corpse and overlooks the living. To suppose love is the gardener is to see it as a stranger who tends the ground where the dead are kept.
A mind convinced of loss will plan to reclaim a body when what it truly wants is not there to be moved. The one it addresses as a passing laborer is the very presence it mourns. Seeking rightly begins the instant the search turns from the tomb toward the one already speaking.
The gardener: love unrecognized, seen as an ordinary stranger who keeps the place of the dead, because the mind expects nothing more.
The body borne away: the belief that what is loved can be lost, stolen, and reclaimed as an object, the error grief makes real to itself.