We watch, observe
your inept ministering, blind
as you are to the welfare
of your charges, mindless
of your obligation to those
who chose you to lead.
Troubled as we are
by your state, best think us
little more than weather beaten
statues, dimly lit portraits
in dusty halls. We are, each of us,
products of our times.
Your trials are unique, yet
no greater than others. Had you
been the one to navigate
the hazardous paths we traveled,
time would not smile on you.
Master your troubles and be thankful.
Time may soften
the wounds you inflict, but don’t
look for respect
when the future looks to us
for inspiration, once
you join these ancient faces.
Free verse this time, in my response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats: Day Three (each day a new Yeats quote). Will Yeats continue to bring out my dark side? Time will tell.
“With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,”—W.B. Yeats
Image source: wikimedia.org – George Washington portrait by Gilbert Stuart (White House copy)