Palm Sunday

Palms of Broken Certainty

I broke off a palm branch

Laying a soft carpet

For a weather worn baby donkey

Holding a man

Excitement built up till joy

Dammed up broke loose

Exploding inside and out

I ripped off another branch

Waving wildly now,

Joining in the celebration

Of something I wasn’t even sure of

Encouraged by the crowd

To belong to this swell

Riding into the city gates

Focused on the man, Jesus

Looking so ridiculous

On a tiny burrow

That seemed borrowed

Nearly broken down

Unsure of its part

In this triumphant entrance

Just a man riding a donkey

I grab a third branch

I am shoved to the front

Jesus looks at me

I bow and reach up

Offering him the broken branch

To tread upon

He pulls the branch

Raising me to stand

“Walk with me,” he says

I do, even though, I don’t know how