WHO AM I TO JUDGE ANOTHER MAN?

WHO AM I TO JUDGE ANOTHER MAN?

Who am I to judge another man’s fate?

When God is the righteous and the only kind.

Ignorant at heart, garnished with hate,

Religiously bare, no real truth in my mind.

Who am I to judge another man’s love?

If it’s kind by design is even different from mine.

If he wants to kiss the wind,

Let him be.

Let the weight of the thighs be his decision,

If he dares to kiss the wounded lion,

I would let him sleep in the den.

If a woman is his shine then let him kiss the gold.

If man with man is his desire,

I will let him be.

For I am not fit to judge the truth,

When my own life would be measured in time.

Who am I to judge another man’s fate?

God is the maker and giver of all.

Still ignorant, counting my sins on a slate,

Knowing all too well the unrighteous fall.

Who am I to judge another man’s god?

When the spirit realm I cannot converse.

If he dares the mountains and slays the pit,

Let him revel in his audacious bit.

If the sun and moon begets his sign,

Let him smile in the evening dream.

If in daring diversity he deitifies a tree,

I’d greet him with all respect.

For all belief is true belief,

Only God knows the truth.

Who am I to judge God’s law?

I am a rueful sinner both tarnished and raw

And if I was better than all I see

Would I not like God rule the sea?

Who am I to judge another man’s colour?

When beauty drifts in all shades.

Dark as night, beautiful as day,

Rings the beauty of the black man.

Brown like the sand, candidly beautiful

Is the Indian I never met?

But all names are human to me,

I have no desire to study what shades they be.

All I remember is the rainbow,

Showing the beauty of being different but staying one.

Death will one day make us all fit  into dust,

Will it matter then who I was?

Who am I to judge what man should love?

Whether it’s man or a woman in line,

As I watch my window for the beautiful dove,

I say whatever he loves is just fine.

Who am I to judge another man’s dream?

If his heart beats in a different rhythm,

The working of his beautiful mind I would never know.

I am but only myself and he will be himself.

Each clearly striving for the flower in our hearts,

If he dares to fly without a mask,

Let him be.

For great men were made when they tried,

To do that which was wildly different and odd.

So why would I judge the beauty in man,

When I am chained by the same dreams too.

Who am I to judge man?

When God is the judge and the law.

The trife in me irks my wounded pride.

As humility gently strips its goal,

Moral pedestal, dangerous and wild.

To think that I am a lighter sinner than they

When in dire reality we all are but sinners.

Struggling to fulfill the rest of our days

God is the only righteous,

God is the judge,

And I cannot be God.
(c) 2015

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