Palm Sunday

I have been there in the festal throng, the waving of palms, the shouting of Psalms: Hosanna – the highest – hosanna. And I have felt the surge of pride to see my king, as prophesied, come in, triumphantly, astride his Zechariah-steed, and I confess that I have hoped to find what, in the end,Continue reading “Palm Sunday”

The Womb of the Morning

(Written on Holy Saturday in Bicheno, Tasmania) The oath must still hold true yet waiting dries expectation; the dew of your youth evaporates in the tomb. Now: what the LORD said to David’s Lord is unchanged, but the rods of foes seem the triumphant ones today. Only Pilate’s wife regrets the washing of hands; onlyContinue reading “The Womb of the Morning”