The HUMMINGBIRD and the GAVEL

Tiny Hummingbird hovering high, flits and flutters gracefully

Searching for sweet and succulent nectar, by a flower given freely

Carefree, careful, rapid flight, ever wings a-flutter,

Brilliant, small black eyes are bright, searching its desire

Loyal bird, honey prefers, but spiders will also ingest

True to instincts, backwards flight, softly perches and rests

Brief and beautiful, feathered wings humming, floating weightlessly by

Who would ever question why? And why would one walk, when one can fly?

The gavel of Judgment hovering above, based on percepted view of past

Lifted by hands delivering hate, with thoughtless condemnation cast

The gavel of Righteousness strictly upheld, so everlastingly high

Raised with oh so pious hands, of which self-proclaimed innocence belies

The gavel of Inequality, weighted by racism, intolerance and hate

Lowered by clean, untainted hands? ... thus delivering undeserved fate

The gavel of Truth, the mallet at rest, raised or lifted by none

When in our own eye is a mote, who would cast a stone?

-Liz

4/7/11