31 March 2015

A Quiet Night in Bethany

Well, this is it, the main event!
A thunderous welcome:
The cheering crowd,
The waving palms,
The strewn clothes.
“Hosanna,” they shouted:
“Save now!” their cry.
Ah, yes...
But not in the way they think.

For thirty years I've learnt my trade;
Wielded the tools,
Driven in nails,
Cherished the wood,
Worked with the grain;
Earned a reputation,
Lived a different life.
Ah, yes...
But not in the way they think.

For three years more I've shown the way;
Wielded the words,
Driven home points,
Cherished their substance,
Worked through their pain;
Earned a certain notoriety,
Marked out a different path.
Ah, yes...
But not in the way they think.

And now, we have but five days more.
Still they are frail,
Missing the point;
Sensing the moment,
Yet not working it out;
Feeling somewhat emboldened,
Set up for the decisive fray.
Ah, yes...
But not in the way they think.

In five days more shall all be done:
The Tyrant shall fall,
Shackles be broken,
Freedom break out;
A new world begin,
Lives be transformed,
And love rule the day.
Ah, yes...
But not in the way they think.

For soldier-boys will ply my trade;
Wielding the tools,
Driving in nails.
I'll cherish the wood,
Hang against the grain
Beneath a reputation;
Die a different death.
Ah, yes...
But not in the way they think.

Copyright © 2015 Desmond Hilary

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