Palm Sunday

Your entry into Jerusalem had volumes to speak Was, like rulers and emperors, your fame at its peak? Ocean of humans, as though welcoming the divine, rose Did they know the secret that your end here on earth was close? Waving palm leaves, the crowds celebrated your victory. You knew. Did they know that thenceforth would start a new story? It's not carpets, but their own garments they spread on your way. The blossoms around swayed as though they had some truths to say. The animal that wore you felt that its goal was fulfilled. It seemed as though in everyone, their egotism was killed. The chants of Hosanna, as wild thunderbolts, filled the ears. Of the yolks and loads that bound them, had they forgotten their fears? You could see Calvary calling you with extended hands. In the form of passion and death, the times had their demands.