Editor's ChoiceMusingsPoetry

The Sword

Blunt on a side,
Sharp on the other.
This, I discovered on order
As my spirit called me to chide.

As often as you smile;
Notice the mile people you smile with
Have trodden with their head as they
Display their caricatural face.
The same mouth that speaks words for smiles
Can instantly turn to a weapon
That sends you to miles in oblivion.

Mouths feign being blunt
When they can’t grunt to your face.
Then, become sharp at your back
When your face is off their phase.

Trust not the eyes that dance as you speak;
Remove the speck from your eyes,
So that you can pick from the mouth instead.
A man’s eyes often betray his sword.
His sword: the words from his mouth;
It does judgement—good or bad or partial.

A man’s sword
Can be too blunt to slash evil
And can be too sharp to slash good:
It depends on who or what he faces.

Notice a man’s sword,
It can be sharp in the front
And blunt at the back
Or blunt in the front
And sharp at the back.

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