A Prodigal Nation

Grieving for what once was but is no longer

The faces of four presidents
carved in a mountainside
are stained by tears.
What they see breaks their hearts.
Mother Liberty’s child
birthed through labor pains
of enlightenment and faith
has turned her back on her parents.

Nurtured in beauty, she has embraced grunge.
Having been nourished on a dependence on God,
she now satisfies her appetite with self-indulgence.
Once clothed with decency and honor,
she has dressed herself in rags.

Violence no longer repulses her.
Promiscuity thrills her.
Biblical absolutes once grasped tightly
are now rejected out of hand.
Her right to choose outweighs another’s right to life.
She views fidelity in marriage as a good thing,
but certainly not a given.
And her definition of marriage is up for grabs.

She plays the field more often than plowing one.
Her work ethic leaves much to be desired.
And her desires are the reason why.
Pleasure. Permissiveness. Popularity.
Pushing the envelope.
Delayed gratification can’t be found in her dictionary.
And it shows.

No longer the envy of the world,
she refuses to believe it.
Once blessed by God
and nicknamed “the beautiful,”
she is a prodigal nation.
And that is why
the stone-faced presidents weep.