The Bosque Ignores Our Religious Timetables

On Palm Sunday

nothing changes down at the river,

the wind blows thirty miles an hour,

and rain this morning

drenches everything,

urges me to

set my heart

to the river’s ways;

let everyone pass me by on their way to church,

let everyone prepare for Easter,

while the river draws me into its rhythms

of stars, moons, clouds and wind,

early morning rains

pull me

where songs simmer

ripening,

to let loose on the air

and birth me anew, seed me anew, cultivate me into

a green bud

softening to a sweet yellow offering—

recreate me in the image of a river apple,

blackberry or apricot

for all who pass

to bite into me and let my juices run down their lip corners

onto their chins, shirts and blouses

in a hungry celebration of spring.