After the psalms have died away
and the palm leaves dry and
brittle in the dust
have crumbled underfoot; after
the streets have emptied,
crowds drained through doorways,
their thunder spent, a stone heart whispers
still, Hosanna: saviour, save us.
After the psalms have died away
and the palm leaves dry and
brittle in the dust
have crumbled underfoot; after
the streets have emptied,
crowds drained through doorways,
their thunder spent, a stone heart whispers
still, Hosanna: saviour, save us.