A Sonnet For Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday
 Now to the gate of my Jerusalem,
 The seething holy city of my heart,
 The saviour comes. But will I welcome him?
 Oh crowds of easy feelings make a start;
 They raise their hands, get caught up in the singing,
 And think the battle won. Too soon they’ll find
 The challenge, the reversal he is bringing
 Changes their tune. I know what lies behind
 The surface flourish that so quickly fades;
 Self-interest, and fearful guardedness,
 The hardness of the heart, its barricades,
 And at the core, the dreadful emptiness
 Of a perverted temple. Jesus come
 Break my resistance and make me your home.
 “From Sounding the Seasons, by Malcolm Guite, CanterburyPress 2012″