Originally posted for Poetry Friday.
This Sunday, exactly one week before Easter, is Palm Sunday–the first day of Holy Week, perhaps the most celebrated week in Christianity. It begins with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, recorded in all four Gospels (Matthew 21, Mark 11, Luke 19, John 12). This week I have been reading these accounts again, imagining how I might have felt if I had been there. Wednesday, after reading them again, I began to pen a narrative. I share a part of it today, in draft form, the part about Jesus’ triumphal entry.
I Was a Child
I was a child on that day
sitting on the shoulders of my uncle
part of a great multitude
gathered on Mt. Olivet, waiting
along the road to Jerusalem,
waiting to see him.
I was a child on that day
listening to miracle stories
of ten men outside a village who cried,
“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”
once lepers but now clean,
of Bartimaeus who called out,
“Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!”
once blind but now seeing,
of Lazarus who died and was
in the tomb four days,
once dead but now alive.
I was a child on that day
watching the road from Bethany
when excitement exploded
like lightning bolts striking:
“He’s coming! He’s coming!”
We tossed down our garments
and great leafy branches,
a carpet to cover the roadway.
I was a child on that day
lifting my voice to join
a thunderous roar —
“Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna!
Blessed be the King who
comes in the name of the Lord;
peace in heaven, and
glory in the highest!”
I was a child on that day
sitting on the shoulders of my uncle
in a great multitude near Mt. Olivet
along the road to Jerusalem
when I saw Jesus of Nazareth
riding on the colt of a donkey.
© Alice Nine, 2019 (draft)
“Entry of Christ into Jerusalem” by Jan van Orley
________
Two years ago, I shared “Palm Sunday” by Maria Post.
I offer a link to it again, for those who do not know it must read it.
With a haunting beauty, Post captures the antithesis between Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem and his arrest, trial, and crucifixion later in the week.
________
Last year I shared Malcom Guite’s sonnet “Palm Sunday” (read entire sonnet or listen to Guite read it).
It speaks not of the day when Jesus rode a colt into Jerusalem amidst shouts of Hosanna but rather of this day, this moment. It speaks of the holy dwelling place in the heart of man. It asks a question. It offers an invitation.
I share it again.
Now to the gate of my Jerusalem,
The seething holy city of my heart,
The saviour comes. But will I welcome him?
. . .
. . . x x x x x x x x x x x x x x Jesus come
Break my resistance and make me your home.
This I have prayed:
“Jesus come, break my resistance, and make me your home.”
And He has.
________
#PoetryFriday Roundup
is hosted by Irene at Live Your Poem
*
Poetry Friday Schedule
Jan – June 2019
I’m so glad you visited today,
and I do enjoy hearing from you!
Your reply will become visible as soon as I read it.
Moving poem Alice, I like that your are writing it from the p.o.v. of being there, and the reputation in your stanzas speaks to this.
Wonderful perspective you bring to the story, Alice. Through new eyes! — Christie
Such effective use of repetition…I love the perspective from Uncle’s shoulders of the sights and sounds. This poem is lovely to remember being a child of God.
Thank you for the lovely Palm Sunday reflections! I’m looking forward to celebrating tomorrow! Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Happy Palm Sunday, Ruth.
I love the idea of seeing this event through the eyes of a child. And like other commenters, I love the repetition. It works so well. The prayer at the end of your post is so powerful. I’m going to pray that this week. Thank you!
I like the combination of excitement and humbleness, in that Jesus arrives on a donkey, not in a flash of fireworks or standing on a galloping horse. Have a blessed Easter season.
I also think that repeated line is so effective. Thanks for sharing!
Echoing appreciations, Alice – the repetition is very effective; I can’t help thinking of the literary journey from ‘innocence to experience’ in light of that child, and how he/she probably couldn’t fathom in that joyful moment what was to unfold in only a few days.
Your poem is full of innocence and joy with no hint of what is to come. I would like to say it reminds me of going to mass with my family this week before Easter, and it does, kind of, but my memories are full of awareness of what would come.
These are all beautiful. I like the innocence you your poem through the eyes of a child caught up in the excitement and not knowing what comes next. A friend gave me a collection of Malcolm Guite poems that go through the liturgical year. His question posed in Palm Sunday pierces my hear every time.
Yes, it pierces my heart too, Kay, and that is good and necessary for me. It isn’t just a historical event or religious commemoration. It is personal. Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful poem, Alice. Your images are so vivid, and your repetition of “I was a child on that day” adds poignancy and anticipation. What a sight that must have been! Thank you for this lead-in to Holy Week.
Thank you, Jama. May you have a blessed Holy Week.
I really like the repetition of that line “I was a child on that day” — so much possibility there! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for visiting and commenting, Irene. I appreciate your input!
Beautiful poem. I love that it’s written from the pov of a child. Oh what a difference a week would make.
Yes, Kimberly, such a difference, a week plus one day!
Beautiful! Your words built in tempo to match the anticipation as Jesus approached – and the repetition of the first stanza was the perfect awe, in reflection on that moment He passed. Have a blessed Easter season, Alice. Thank-you for sharing.
Thank you! And a blessed Easter to you also.
It is sweet to imagine what one would feel that day. Your voice is the poem is very strong. I love the idea of people gathering, would be a joy to have been there.
Thanks for sharing, Linda, so appreciate your insight. Yes, joy… an unspeakable joy that one cannot understand.