it is finished. what’s
the use of words now, Jesus?
silently, tears fall.
All articles filed in holy week
keep watch
yet to come will be the weeping;
let all mortal flesh keep silence
and keep watch.
palms
sunday, and the children wave their palms
with excited eyes and spreading smiles.
palm branches! palm branches! they shout.
at dawn
at dawn death rolled back
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love lies bleeding
my love lies in darkness
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thorn
in the poppy bed
there’s a stubborn weed
i never can seem to kill
clean
i finally got my feet washed.
they were sore from a day
of running and standing still,
of impatience and veiled pride,
and i wondered, as i sat in the pew,
whether the one who washed them
would be able to smell the sweat
from my socks and shoes.
palm sunday
the crowd gathers in,
eager, excited, waiting
for the arrival
of the champion.
holy saturday
we planted the peas today
rolled their plump green bodies
into the black bacterial dust
gardeners call inoculant
and then tucked them one by one
under the soil
maundy thursday
we’ve had a cold snap again
frost nipping the eager blooms
of the japanese magnolias
and kissing the bricks
that weight the blanket
stretched over the half-moon bed
of drowsing flowers