Palm Sunday Poem

Hosanna, Jesus! Hosanna!
Hosanna to our God most high;
To our Elyon, Lord Sabbaoth,
To Yahweh, holy Adonai!
Hosanna to the coming king,
Most royal son of Jesse’s son.
Blessed is He who comes to see
Righteous salvation’s labor done.
“Hosanna,” cry and welcome him,
Behold him mounted on the foal,
Who rides in humble power’s peace
In conquest for each sinner’s soul.

“Hosanna,” sing, not just in praise.
Your fickle heart knows not it’s need.
“Hosanna” means, “Deliver me!”
It means the perfect God must bleed.
So hold back your Hosannas if
You’d hoped for gain without the cost.
Take up your cloaks, lay rest your leaves
Unless you truly know you’re lost
And would, in desperation, beg
That our Creator come and die
If you would see his kingdom come
You also must plead, “Crucify!”

Then, in his death, taste death in you,
But from the grave arise made new.