In this sonnet, titled “From the Pharisees’ Perspective of the Triumphal Entry, We Watched with Cold Disdain”, the Pharisees narrate their disapproval as Jesus enters Jerusalem on a colt. They see the crowd’s cloaks and palms, hear their shouts of “Hosanna, Son of David,” and feel their authority challenged by this unkingly figure and his fervent followers. Demanding he silence them, they’re met with his cryptic reply—that if the crowd were quiet, the stones would cry out—which they dismiss as nonsense, clinging to their rigid stance. His peace and mercy unsettle them, and they view him with disdain, determined to protect their power, seeing only a bold teacher doomed to fail, unaware of his divine reign.

We stood apart, their fervor stoked our ire,
The rabble spread their cloaks and palms in haste,
A colt he rode, no steed of king’s desire,
Yet cheers arose, our order’s calm displaced.
“Hosanna, Son of David,” fouled the breeze,
His followers, a throng of loud acclaim,
We bid him still their cries, their wild decrees,
To guard the Law from this presumptuous claim.
His words returned—a riddle sharp and strange,
That stones would shout should silence bind their tongue,
We scoffed at such, our minds refused to change,
His peace a threat, his mercy left unsung.
We watched him pass, our power’s edge to save,
A teacher bold, yet destined for the grave.