Palm Sunday prayer

 He rode no valiant warhorse.

He bore no mighty sword.

His glorious crown was made of thorns.

His robes trailed in the mud.

 

He led no revolution

His politics were love

He offered absolution, mercy,

Hope; for these he stood,

 

The stones would shout to praise him

If people didn’t cry.

Then palms be thrown. No golden road

For donkey and its rider.

 

So, will we shout Hosanna

Or turns our backs instead—

Facing the crowd, shout “Not allowed,”

Though for our sins he bled?

 

They cannot see our savior

Who rides the donkey’s back—

See only us who block the path

With laws, with crowns of thorns.

 

They cannot see him. How can we

Not weep?

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