4.5.09 Palm Sundayz Muze

I rolled to my side, to peer at the arms of my oak reaching into a predawn sky. Not a breath of wind stirred its leaves. It’s Palm Sunday. I remembered the tale of Jesus riding into the city, fanned with palm fronds. Hosanna! Palm fronds to shade him from the desert sun? Palm fronds fanned as a hedge against scorching heat? Assuming world climates have not drastically changed in the last two millennia, the weather was neither blistering nor inclement on that early spring day. For as I write, Jerusalem is a cool 67 degrees with a light west-north-westerly breeze. Had he any idea, as he received their accolades, of the torture and mutilation awaiting? Have we learned anything since that fateful day? Our weapons are cleaner, our killing more sterile and… as a species our interest in power, control, domination, war and murder continues. What did I give up for Lent? I gave up ice cream – though it was by default. Unconscious and hardly painful, I don’t think it counts. Beer, wine, and dancing drop into the same unconscious/painless slot. Running – ouch! I did give up running for Lent though it was forced by illness – I would never willingly give up running – not for no one! I have nothing at stake for Lent… seemingly little at stake for Easter… and the game is yet at hand. Looking… You?