In the week of what is called ‘s Passion, Passion Week, or Holy week, today there is no account. hence:
Wednesday 33 AD
Between the pageantry of psalms,
And washing of disciples’ feet—
Cursing of the fruitless fig tree—
Betrayer slinking through a street—
Nothing is known. Nothing is known
Of this spring day. Where did He teach?
On temple steps? On Olive’s slopes?
Warnings to heed? Figures of speech?
How could they know, what was to come?
That soldiers would gamble with dice?
No Spirit would soothe His parched lips?
This Son of Man, God’s sacrifice?