Palm Sunday
Where once He rode the broad and festive ways,
He climbs the narrow path to Calvary;
And where the branches rained in hopeful praise,
He drags the torso of a traitor's tree:
For where He would have prayed they would have fought,
Where they would conquer He came to atone;
And when He would not give them what they sought
He died through those they would have overthrown.
Lord, Teach us to discern Your will for us
That we may not mistake You on the way,
Expecting what You never meant to give
And hoping for the words you will not say:
And may we, to protect us from such harm,
Nourish devotion where we would have art;
And heed the warning of the fickle palm
To prize Your conquest of our fickle heart.