Growing outward toward the sun
and finding in themselves
the green and liquid life,
increased in state: the stuff of fame
the fronds that grew to fan the royalty.
And yet today, they find themselves
torn from source, and carried,
triumphed, in the air.
As people shout around and crowd,
they throw their palm fronds on the ground
So may we Jesus, like the palms,
be rent from life to die.
That laying prostrate there
we too might glory in Your way,
and live hosannas to our King.