Palm Sunday

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behold, this passage
through a joyful land,
where the sun-song sweeps

across the downy fields,
and, although still unseen
but for the blue of sky

the stars rain praises
soft upon the ground
in honor of the daylight’s sway.

and all the many leggéd beasts
gather at the roadside whispering
in triumph and anticipation,

while all the spinning colors
of a vibrant day
conspire to weave kisses in the air,

one for every hope and every wonder,
and one for every memory of
an autumn reign, into a noble crown.

here shall the glory pass by softly.
here shall the glory pass by swiftly,
on his way up to the gates of promise.

behold, this passage
through a joyful land,
on this roadway

where the beasts of burden shuffle.
here, where a thousand longing
pilgrims have gone down before,

the laborers of the
field stand
breathless, waiting,

to catch a glimpse of fire
in the face of something new
and unexpected, and bid welcome

in anticipating wonder
to that which lay
long hid, behind the veil.

“hosanna!”

behold, this passage
where the sun comes singing
down a narrow way,

and the stones weep
kissed by dawning, and the branches bow
in the hands of a long-suffering people

in rhythm to the sound of footfalls.
here shall the glory pass by softly.
here shall the glory pass.

“hosanna!”

(c) 1998, Karekin Yarian, BSG