Palm Sunday

 Mary and I took part in the Bethlehem Marathon yesterday and I was inspired to write this poem.

Palm Sunday

Here He comes, Lion King

Strangely becoming Easter Lamb

Riding his donkey tank

Firing shells of rose petals into the ranks of armed aggression.

Blessed is He who comes in the name of sacrificial love.

 

Here he comes, breaker of walls

Crowned with every barb-ed strand of razor wire

That separates us. The bloodied hero,

Demolishing every last bit of our cruel enmity

Making every last adversary our brother or sister, in love.

 

I hammered alone with naked, bloodied hands,

Unable to break through

Those towering concrete walls of separation.

He came with His bag of dynamite power

That fathered every distant star,

which created the beauty of each tiny flower.

 

Every last tear is gathered into His bottle,

Every tiny drop of protest, every last footstep of a walk of peace,

He joins into a mighty irresistible flood,

Breaking through every last barrier of separation

And turning every warring enemy

Into His very own loving, eternal friend.