1

Why when words thought divine imbued project
from lips, intent to turn a sinner's heart,
mirrored shards straight fly to blind and reflect
not you but me: adjudge the work you start?

So easily disfigured in the head
does your appeal in me pervert your plans.
A force to cut and burn, divorce and wed,
an edge of knife you leave to child's hands,

a daggered gift: yet still you give to all.
Will mercy let my words be short and few,
or cut the mouth to save a brother's fall?
Else, then turn my heart to beast before you

tongued; wherefore if my heart condemns me thus
there dwells a greater word with sharper thrust.

psalm 39
psalm 73: 22
mark 9: 43
romans 14: 21
2 cor 5: 20
1 john 3: 20
rev 19: 21