Sagacity and Youth

temerity gripped our throats as
silence descended
in the sweltering room;
we waited for anyone, someone, to read.
from a far off pew, a woman,
head covered reverently,
weather worn skin, wrinkled,
aged by many years, began to speak
in a shaky -yet poignantly clear-
voice: Isaiah.
i cant remember the last time
those words dropped my soul
to its stiff knees,
as when this humble sage
with such
clarity and passion
breathed the truth.
what impacted me most
was a girl (no more than twenty)
who giggled, turned and
whispered to her friend,
who then looked toward the bent
figure, and immediately joined the
mindless cackle.
in this moment,
i felt sour pitty for
our generation.