We come into the joyful procession
with palm branches and nails in our hands.
You give us the bread of your presence
with holes in your hands.
We receive the life-giving wine of your love
with blood on our hands.
You kneel with us in our fear and stumbling
with our weary feet in your hands.
We pass among the guards and soldiers
with pieces of silver in our hands.
You stand before us, condemned,
with your hands in chains.
We behold your miraculous grace
with nothing in our hands.
You are crucified and buried
with our lives in your hands.
We wait in silence,
in the hands of God.
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