Unproductive vines

 Haiku of failed privilege

A model vineyard.

Fertile, cleared of stones, wine-vat;

all ready to go.

Planted with choice vines,

the vintage is guaranteed!

But the grapes are wild.

What more, questions God,

could I have done for my vineyard?

I shall destroy it!

It shall be devoured,

broken down, trampled; given

over to the thorns.

An allegory!

The vineyard is Israel

and Judah’s people.

God looked for justice,

from his privileged people;

saw only bloodshed

Seeking righteousness,

God heard only anguished cries

from those cast aside.

We, who are priv'leged,

do we build justice, truth, hope;

are we serving love?

© Ken Rookes 2022

Came looking

Came looking

God the failed gardener;
sleeves rolled up,
hands roughened and calloused
from clearing the stones
and building them into walls and tower.
Blistered with digging and hoeing,
skin darkened from all the pruning
and all the sun,
came looking;
but the vineyard is unfruitful.

Came looking
among the empty branches;
among the fear and the voting
and the credit cards,
among the accumulators, the manipulators
and the gate-keepers
among the networks and the systems
and the tent-cities,
among the indices and the vaults
and the shock-jocks,
among the editorials and the card-gamers
and the judgement-sitters,
among the candidates and the slogans
and the low denominators,
among the investors and the magnates
and the number-gatherers,
among the light-thieves, the chance-dealers
and the hope-stealers.
Came looking.

God, the failed gardener
came looking
among the sad empty branches
for some generosity, some love
and some mercy;
but the vineyard is unfruitful.

© Ken Rookes 2013