The King

A poem for Palm Sunday

Watch the poem be read here.

You’ve always done things differently, and they’ve never failed.

Like the time you turned water into wine.
Or like when you rubbed mud on the blind man’s eyes so he could see.
Or when you healed the paralyzed man because his friends truly believed.
And like the time You entered Jerusalem riding on the back of a colt,

And they asked, “Who is this?”
And they, along with the rest of the world, would soon know.

They knew you as the one who healed the sick and fed the poor.
The one who turned lives inside out and upside down.
The one who had 12 close friends, raised a man named Lazarus from the dead, and told a cripple to get out of bed.

But soon,
Soon they would see you are more than anyone who had come before.

Just in time - Hope had arrived.

Some cheered and cried Hosanna.
Save us! Save us now!
Please, save us.

They waved palm branches and laid them down so you wouldn’t have to touch the ground.

Children sat on the shoulders of parents as they pointed to the one they’d been waiting for.

Echoes of Jesus is Lord filled the city as you moved toward the beginning of the end.

And we thought that The King was coming to take His crown!

But you knew the King was coming to be buried in the ground, to bring us from lost to found.

Good arrives only to die, only to rise, only for the world to realize

You are who you say You are:
The King.

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