Sunday, April 01, 2007

Once Upon a Palm Sunday


‘Tis the week before Easter
the malls are all stuffed
with bunnies and baskets,
chocolate and fluff.


The spring greens are sprouting
as daylight increases.
Some daring, young crocus
are unfurling their leaf-es. [or leaves]


The mannequins are sleeveless
flaunting spring wear
in hopes that the shoppers
are keen to be bare.


And cashmere and car coats,
mittens, wool dresses
are marked "last chance clearance"
at 70 percent less.


So the mood sure is festive
but I am unmoved
‘cause pastels and tulips
just aren’t my mood.


What do I have to complain of
with all of my gifts?
My home? My car?
My overbooked kids?


I’ll tell you what, buddy,
now that you’ve asked
this Easter-ish holiday
just isn’t my bag.


Oh, it’s pretty and harmless
with its pleasant church service
but the rest of my life
is making me nervous.


For instance, my job
can Easter cure that?
With the threat of new layoffs
and departmental spats?


My office is toxic
my boss has her quirks.
She’s really perfected that
part of her work.


I worry about money—
how far can it stretch?
Just how many groceries
can one paycheck fetch?


There’s the mortgage, the car loan,
the medical bills,
the groceries, electricity,
anxiety pills.


More work than is possible
few moments to spare.
No wonder I’m finding
there’s grey in my hair.


The state of the world
winds my nerves up tight
as I think of the things
folks aren’t doing right.


Manners are slipping.
there’s a complete lack of grace.
A woman last week
slammed a door in my face.


You think that’s bad?
Drive Highway 5.
Road rage and tailgaters
keep my terror alive.


How dark it all seems
--our civility is wearing—
with murders and drug busts
and 10 year olds swearing.


And across seas, just look,
how the world seems to fester
with famine and street bombs,
wars and disasters.


My neck feels like iron,
my eyes always burning
as I watch evening news
with my poor stomach churning.


But Easter is coming,
a time of rejoicing.
A day they say cures
some of the ills I am voicing.


So tell me once more
why the death of one man
could change history’s course
and these worries I have.


I want to be lifted
From reality’s hurts.
Can Easter’s true meaning
transform times at their worst?


Yes, Easter is coming, and He is risen!


(This was part of our worship service today.)

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