Mark 11:15-19

The door does close as I walk out; the servant does his job.
Now I walk down the street, only my retinue along.
Some lawyers, scribes, and servants, a train behind my robe.
Kinglike, I walk the streets, the crowd a sea, a parting throng.

As I approach the temple steps, I feel a little queasy.
All these beggars sitting there, make the place look filthy.
These cursed of God, they should be moved outside the walls.
I lift my skirts out of the dirt; I look a little silly.

As I walk up the stairs, encumbered by my wealthy girth,
When once inside, we pause for breath and look at the great crowd.
The merchants and the money changers, all in our employ,
The industry is booming, though the livestock is quite loud.

I’m pleased to see the busy crowd; my pockets further lined
With the profit from the crowd that we are robbing blind.
They have no choice but to submit if they do wish to worship.
I move once more, my train behind, as coins dance through my mind.

A man moves by, right through my train; I’m merely pushed aside.
I’m annoyed that he ignored my retinue and status.
Complaint is locked behind my lips; I see what happens next.
He flips a stand and scatters coins, and livestock runs at us.

I’m driven with the cows who, run with me out the gate.
I can hear his preaching now, and I am filled with fear.
“Don’t make my house a marketplace,” he quotes out of the scripture.
“This is a place to worship God, for men to be drawn near!”

I stand outside the temple gates with profiteers and merchants.
The beggars all go through the gates into his celebration.
I’m in the outer darkness, but I hear the roaring worship
As healed men and women celebrate within his kingdom.