“Palm Sunday”

posted in: Poems | 0

Imagining what it feels like for Jesus to relive that day every year, as his people remember.

In April of 2020, living under stay-at-home orders, my daughters and I began the “Quarantine Sonnet” Project. Each day, we each tried to write a sonnet, and we posted them on the wall of our hallway!

Palm Sunday

Do you remember, when we wave our palms?
Lord Jesus, does it bring it back for you?
The rush of fame, dust, blister from your shoe,
The lurching donkey, stomach fear, heart qualms,
A sound of doom you hear like far off bombs
A prophet's sights of blood and rubble due,
Temptation not to see this whole thing through,
Hosannas drowned by whispered darker psalms.

Now every year you face it all again
Two billion times, in each believer's thoughts.
Each rides with you, with your ears hears them say
“Hosanna,” as you lift your cup of pain
That she may hear “forgive her” at the cross
And “come with me” on that great shining day.
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