The Procession'
See the procession. Yonder they come'
None plays a flute- no one beats a drum.
Just a small rag-tagged group of a dozen or so.
Who, for three years, have preached wherever they go.
They know this ministry will soon draw to a close.
What door God opens next, He only knows'
Yet there is an aura about this group of men.
Unlikely to be seen in Judea again.
Even the donkey, on which their Leader does ride,
At someone else's gate was so recently tied.
Hear the refrain which they commenced to sing;
"Glory' Hosanna' To the King of all Kings'"
Some throw their cloaks on the ground,
Others are laying palm branches down.
The High Priest inquires what this is about?
"If the people keep quiet, the rocks will cry out'"
All this accomplished words written long ago,
Every detail was fulfilled- and precisely so'
A Hero this day as He rides among men,
Though shortly these same ones will yell "Crucify Him."
Today- triumphal entry; but on Friday He dies'
Sunday is coming when He'll split the skies.
This is the story of Jesus our Lord,
Born, lived, and died; now alive evermore'
Coming to Jerusalem- a small band of men-
Jesus led captivity captive; a large procession then,
What has been building in the ensuing ages
As the History Books have been filled with numerous pages.
The Church has been built; mighty and strong,
For which Jesus will return before very long.
He'll claim His bride and carry her away.
Later with His saints beside Him, He'll return to stay.
The Procession expands each time it's in views.
How does this apply to me and you?
I've made my decision and taken my stand.
Are you willing to grasp His nailed scarred hand?
You know the words Jesus has said,
And you've heard how God raised Him from the dead.
Will you believe Him, trust Him, and be saved today?
Come join our precession: He's passing your way'
Art Ball (H.S.L.P.)
February 19. 2006
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