The child who had
picked up
a broken and bent
and trampled-upon
palm branch
found a place to stand
at the edge of the dirt road.
The crowds grew.
Loud “Hosannas”,
growing hopes,
and whispers of great 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.
“LORD, please look my way.
Please wave at me.
Please let me know
that I am not as
invisible as others
make me to be.”
From the One
who was riding on a donkey
into Jerusalem,
there was eye contact …
there was a smile…
and there were words
from his soon-to-be-parched lips.
“MY BELOVED CHILD.”
And that was enough.
Enough .... for today.
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