Palm Sunday

 Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday prophet 

Riding a donkey

Your welcome was fulsome

Your entrance applauded. 

Yet a week later

You exit the city

Scorned by the mob

Showing no pity. 

What is the matter

With ordinary people?

At times so adoring

But often so fickle. 

Things haven’t changed

Over the centuries

Today you’re on top

Tomorrow you’re history. 

Today we hold palms

In the palms of our hands

We’ll try to remember 

Our sense and our decency. 

Easter is coming 

The people expecting

A savior to save them

A messiah to lead on

But the path he is leading

Is the one least expected

It’s the road to long service

It’s a highway to save us.