20/03/2026
Palm Sunday (Translation of Gweddi ar Sul Y Blodau)
The mule moved slowly beneath You,
her flesh, her bone and her muscle carrying
Your flesh, Your bones and Your muscle,
for You were made Man
with a body like ours.
Reaching the outskirts of town, adulation
exploded around You
rained like blows on Your body and head
for You knew what was prophesied…
Palm leaves scourged You til bloody,
words of false praise spat in Your innocent face;
hard kisses would hammer the nails that would pierce You –
Your side would be stabbed by their absolute blindness to Grace.
Was Your heart not riven, sweet Lord, by their raving?
They shouted, 'Hosanna!'
but You, as their God, knew the lie –
Take Him and bind Him and break Him and mock Him
nail him to His Cross:
raise him up -
Crucified.
©Ruth Roberts Owen
