wonderings
we act like it’s a week
of happenings to call holy
but it’s only a day or two
most of the days go by
silent and unscheduled
like most days go by
sure there’s the donkey
and the coats in the road
but then nothing much until
supper for the last time when
no one really understood it
was their last time together
it’s late Sunday night
and I only have a hint of
what my tomorrow might
bring but I have questions
wonderings is a better
way to say it perhaps
what did they do on the
days that didn’t matter?
did they think it was
just another week
even with the donkey?
what did they think
was going to happen?
even in Jesus’ last week
not every moment was
saturated with significance
some days are for washing
cloaks and picking up palms
those don’t get written
Peace,
Milton
Bless you, Milton, as we journey through another Holy Week. I wish you had been with us yesterday at All Saints’ school chapel as we followed Buster, the donkey, up the grassy hill..