What shall we do in this vineyard of palms ?
where Prudentius’s vices are verdant fronds?
where we pretend to be “Blessed “trunks from the very first psalm
While our roots sit shallow in a climate so calm
What shall be our song ?
While vile villains and viruses threaten the crop ?
shall we sing “round the Rosie “before media’s shop ?
Till preachers hold out hands to command winds to stop.
Or politicians plead for another country’s crop.
Shall we hear from afar an ancient man’s song?
Telling a dirge for all we’ve done wrong?
He rebukes our tongues with Holy tong!
“young Fools who stand at palm tree with locked knee !
You Sloths at ease as you do as you please
Weaklings who can’t cut virtuous frond
you have no good thing for the King of the palm!
shame to you ,shame to you
There is no fruit to bear through you !
You fools ,Young fools !” the ancient man cries
“ you have no hallelujah !”
he Weeps and sighs
So what , Shall we say as we look at the field?
Can we bend our stiff knees where our heart’s once kneeled?
can Wednesday Ash intention bring better yield?
Can Repentance burning 40 make A sick land healed?
The child rises to Ask the ancient Man “can we believe ? “
The child takes his hands makes a ring for them to receive
From ashes Upon ashes another Easter crop has a chance!
See old man a new palm tree made roots for our dance !
Oh sing with me old man To the king of the palm ..
and The king of the ground where we once belonged.
Oh sing ashes and hallelujah as we fall down. !
Sing once again old man and receive your crown.