This Generation
In the Marketplace,
a game of
children.
One does not
dance,
when the
flute is played,
mimicking a
wedding feast.
The other
does not mourn
when the
singing is of death.
What did
they expect?
Did they
come to see a prophet,
or king?
Did they
expect glimmering robes?
Whatever is
received
it is never
enough.
One came by
the river,
without food
or drink,
and he is
called a demon.
The son
comes
sharing
meals of tradition
and
hospitality,
and he is
called a friend of sinners.
I played a
wedding song for you,
on my flute
and you
chose not dance.
I sang the
somber hymns
of a funeral
march,
and you
chose not to cry.
To what are
you compared,
this
generation
and the next?
You are
neither happy
when the
grass is green,
nor when it
is brown.
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author
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