Sonnet on Matthew 11:16-19

[A work in progress. I like parts of it but not yet the whole of it.]

A willful child, I scorned our Mother
She played Her flute but I danced not
She played Her dirge but I mourned not
Unhappy, I looked for another.

In church I found liturgy and incense
Holy men who always demanded more
Priests who sinfully abused God’s poor
Religious pomp offering only nonsense.

In Christ I found a man of blood and tears
Anointed crucified contorted
Love twisted, discarded, distorted
First on the cross then through two thousand years.

Jesus, divinely human prophet man
Calls me to God, Holy Wisdom Woman.

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