He turns his face to the city,
fusing its past and future
in one weeping moment,
an immediate joy,
an undeniable sadness.
He enters with acceptance,
not resignation or foreboding.
He walks the streets, canyons
of darkness and fear.
He walks the streets, forested
by voices rising not in hope
but desire, seeking what
he will not offer, refusing what
he freely gives.
This poem is submitted to Open Mike Night at dVerse Poets. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today
Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
5 comments:
I see Jesus entering Jerusalem . . . Beautiful, Glynn!
Powerfully said.
nice...makes me think of his riding in on that donkey...and some will scoff and laugh...and not get what he freely is offering, but some will....cool easter poem sir...
Refusing what he freely gives...speaks to many things for me...but most of all the heart of the city itself...and how so many will glady take what is wanted without thoughts of needs beyond their own.
So sad for those who refused, such joy for those that accepted. This is a really moving faith poem.
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