Palm Sunday

Golden light drifts as a dove
  Onto palms and the
Children of God.

A prayer rejoices life and love
  Electric silence
Of this Sunday morn.

Six bells awaken, an anthem
  Is raised, the beat
Of a drum calls hearts to embrace.

The Good Shepard now raises
  Faith as a crook, and
Leads his flock inside the stone church.

‘Hosanna in the highest,’
  The people cry. Pain on a
Cross must precede Paradise.

Jesus’ trial is now relived
  And ‘Crucify him!’
Is forced onto lips.

A tear can be seen and
  Silence is kept, Mary’s son
Exhausted of humanly breath.

In sorrow the people summon
  Memory forth. A last supper
Seems their only hope.

They share broken bread and
  Drink good wine, while
Sunshine promises hope in time.

A spiritual finishes this
  First day of darkness. It will get
Darker, much darker,

Yet the end is in sight.