arrivals gate

At the arrivals gate a family gathers.
A few curious onlookers stop to see.
No royalty here, no armed guard just
a donkey and her colt carrying a sole
figure.  From Bethany perhaps where
wine, bread and olives were shared
before for this journey.  Another gate
not so far away soldiers come to keep
the peace they said but you can’t keep
what you never had.  Armed guards and
courtiers accompany those who wash their
hands with sanctions over the violence of others.


Hosannas ring through the city as
the gentle king on a borrowed back
vulnerable, humble, unarmed enters.
Time for withdrawing to the hills is over.
Confrontation comes carried along with
their cries.  Who dare stand out in this crowd?
From wilderness to city, calm to conflict
much more than bread is broken with
friends afraid for the future, a traitor one
with silvered hand. The cry of the people
has changed as fickle as the wind.  And
together they – temple and palace Crucify.


The gentle imperative that begins
deep in your heart.  It is the whisper
that will not let go no matter how hard
you try to ignore it.  As the beating
drum of the world goes on insisting
the path we tread.  Turn aside, see
before us the waters are stirred up
there is an agitation that will not give
in until we rise in answer to their cry
to catch the moment that brings to
birth a new beginning.


Written for Gŵyl Coda ym Metws-y-Coed. 

Coda is a welsh word meaning ‘rise up’.  It also is a term in music for the part which stands at the end and reflects on the whole piece.