“Willow weep for me
Willow weep for me
Bent your branches down along the ground and cover me
Listen to my plea
Hear me willow and weep for me……”
~Jerome Kern & Otto Harbach

There is something about the weeping willow tree that has always drawn me in, tugged at my heart. Earlier in the week I was walking around one of the many Twin Cities’ lakes and found myself awestruck at the beauty of this tree in its springtime form. Not yet visible are the chartreuse leaves dangling on thin, whip-like branches. Instead the strong trunks hold golden ribbons that waved in the still cool breeze coming off the icy-patched water. They shimmered with possibility in the light. Possibility of their summer weeping form that was hidden in the now golden branches. I was stopped in my aerobic tracks to simply gaze at them.

It would not be safe to say the weeping willow is my favorite tree. There are too many trees that share that space. But I once remember my father telling me it was his favorite tree so I am sure that sunk in someplace and found a home in me. He was a man of few words and to have said such a thing seemed important. Not long ago in some of my reading about the Celtic world, I learned of the great importance the willow has for this bloodline from which I have sprung. The tree is seen to contain the energy of intuition, dreams and vision. Watching its branches flow in the wind it is certainly easy to understand how those whose lives are more given to such ideas could derive this notion.

Of course, I am still living into this Lenten theme our community has embraced of “Holy Way” and so many things that might seem ordinary get illuminated in the light of these words, this concept. Later in doing a little research on the weeping willow, I learned that the willow tree is flexible and can bend, unlike other trees, without breaking. It has the ability to adjust and adapt to life rather than fight it. The willow grows very large and can grow from a solitary branch that has fallen into a watery area. It not only lives in less than optimal conditions but thrives. Sounds pretty holy to me.

This Sunday we will once again hear the account of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, the day we have named Palm Sunday. Those of us who have hung around in the church for a long time know where this story leads. As he continues to be true to his understanding of God’s call on his life, Jesus will stand his ground in less than optimal conditions. Though the world around him may cause him to bend and adjust and adapt to a system that lacks understanding and grace, he does not break in his deep knowing of the way of love. For those of us looking on, it often seems an impossible task, even a senseless one. But he continues to walk the Holy Way he not only imagines but understands to be the way of God’s movement in and through him. A way that could transform the whole world.

Others will not make the connection, will not see this same unfolding when they notice the weeping willow in its spring form. But this year that is what I saw and so, like the Celts, the tree offered me a glimpse of intuition, dreams and vision. These trees planted so close to the lake they seem to be nearly floating have their roots going deep and hanging on for dear life. A life that will give birth to green out of gold, and soon will blow in the wind and show us the movement of summer breezes. They will become a living testament of the wisdom of blooming where you are planted, of standing your ground, of thriving in less than optimal conditions, of spreading beauty and love into the world.

And this year they will offer me one more vision of the Holy Way.