The age demanded that we sing

And cut away our tongue.

The age demanded that we flow

And hammered in the bung.

The age demanded that we dance

And jammed us into iron pants.

And in the end the age was handed

The sort of shit that it demanded.

The amusing thing about this poem is that I cannot tell exactly which age Hemmingway is talking about. It is amusing because I think it fits many ages. There really is nothing new under the sun, and like most good literature, there is a little something relatable in each work to everyone of each age. Perhaps Hemmingway spoke of the constricting age of traditionalism and morals. Or better yet, perhaps he spoke of the Roaring 20s and the years that followed. In that age, they sang and danced and were free as a bird, until they weren’t. They lived without rules until they created a new form of prudishness. And in today’s age, I see the same thing. How foolish we are to continue the pendulum’s swing instead of following the commands of God! We are told to sing and dance and love and be whatever we want, but only what is allowed. No traditionalism, no morality, just the religious adherence to relativism, just so long as it is not from God! We can sing unless it is not the song they choose, and so our tongues are cut. We are fluid unless we follow a line, in which our loved is stopped up. We can dance unless we follow a pattern, and find ourselves in mental and even physical chains. They cry freedom, but bondage to the will is all they have to offer. And at the end of this age, like so many others, we will be handed the results of what we demanded.

Blessings to you and yours,

~Madelyn Rose Craig