A couple of years back, I shared a movie with you about a saint who called himself “God’s jackass.” Leave it to G.K. Chesterton to write a poem for Palm Sunday from the point of view of the ass.
by G.K. Chesterton
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
From what I’ve found out, this was written before he converted officially to Catholicism. Where did I find it? From none other than the good folks over at Universalis. You never know what you will find when praying the LOTH over there.