What vantage point you hold
high above the fray
sitting comfortably
in your judgment seat
You critique a moment
of another life
deciding right and wrong
silently declaring
whether a reputation lives
or dies
It helps I know
to point to the imperfections
and wag your head
at the poor workmanship
If you owned a working mirror
you might not be so quick
to be judge and jury
of another’s guilty soul
Yes, you are correct
guilt covers them
like an oversized pancho
the scars are obvious
the limits of their capacity
do not stretch the imagination
But know this
they are loved
That one whose faults
have become fodder
for a conversation you have
over lunch with friends
That one is loved
with an everlasting love
by the One who is
both the last and the first
our end and our beginning
Loved by the One
who can see more than you
who knows the shame
no one else can detect
That person whose soul
takes the blows of your gossip
they are loved
by the God of glory
the Perfect One
the only worthy judge
The object of your scorn
is deeply loved
And so are you

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