The Elders Are Confused

You call us unruly children,
but you confuse us!

First, your cousin came,
eating insects, drinking honey,
preaching re-thinking,
shoving stubborn heads
under cold Jordan's
waves.

Clearly possessed!

Then along you come
laughing, eating, drinking,

with sinners consorting,
singing songs of paradise
to prostitutes.

So what's it to be?

Mourning
to John's dirge?
or dancing
to God's piper?

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!