The child picked up
a broken and bent
and trampled-upon
palm frond
and found a place to stand
at the edge of the dirt road.
The crowds grew.
Loud “Hosannas”
and whispers of discontent
surrounded the child.
He knew not what to shout …
his palm branch
was a sad sight to behold.
He was pushed around
as if invisible
(but that was nothing new to him).
The child’s heart raced
as the man came near,
riding on a lumbering donkey.
The “Hosannas” grew louder.
The child’s words
were only whispers.
“Oh, please look my way.
Please wave at me.
Please let me know
that I am not as
invisible as others
make me to be.”
There was eye contact …
there was a smile …
there were words
from the lips
of the One on the donkey ...
“My beloved child.”
And that was enough.
Enough .... for this day.
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