Palm Sunday: A Sonnet
Now to the gate of my Jerusalem, the seething holy city of my heart, the savior comes. But will I welcome him? Oh crowds of easy feelings make a start; they raise their hands, get caught up in the singing, and think the battle won. Too soon they'll find the challenge, the reversal he is bringing changes their tine. I know what lies behind the surface flourish that so quickly fades; self-interest, and fearful guardedness, the hardness of the heart, its barricades, and at the core, the dreadful emptiness of a perverted temple. Jesus come break my resistance and make me your home.
“From Sounding the Seasons, by Malcolm Guite, CanterburyPress 2012”