shall be exalted

Thinking about Christ's entry into Jerusalem today, but nothing original came to mind. So cribbing from something I wrote five years ago.

Triumphal

tambourines, drums, tambourines
fronded leaves spread
drums, tambourines, drums
a festival misled

The head borne proudly,
The stuttered gait nonstop
And the donkey’s hooves go clop, clop, clop

in raucous celebration
victorious crowds escalate
in quiet glory
death awaits

The head borne proudly,
The stuttered gait nonstop
And the donkey’s hooves go clop, clop, clop

specially chosen for this moment’s ride
carrying the groom, bearing the bride
plans set in motion by an unseen guide
the sting of victory espied

My head borne proudly,
My stuttered gait nonstop
And my hooves, they go clop, clop, clop


The poem is about Palm Sunday, Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and it seems to focus on the donkey who bore Him. To the donkey, maybe the raucous crowds and celebrations were for it. All its life this donkey has lived a life of toil, and for this one moment, the people are cheering it. The crowds were as misled as the donkey, as they celebrated what they thought would be a military or political victory of some sort, when the victory that awaited Jesus was the sting of death. In the end, our misunderstandings about Him make us the donkey.