Planks and Stones

Planks and Stones
by Chrissy Gelok

When your plans unfold the way you expected,
solidly planted on the life you’ve erected,
will you foolishly boast how your path’s void of rocks,
or know that your feet may be tripped by a fox
covered in wool from a lamb while the moonlight is dim,
(he’d love nothing more than to feast on your limbs)
Red riding hood, look! Or you might be devoured;
Exposed by a canine and pronounced a coward.

Will you look down your nose at your brother’s rags, tattered?
Or consider at all how much he’s been battered?
While you cordially sip on your Earl Grey tea,
look up from your chair and catch a glimpse of the sea
of tumultuous waves throwing travelers under;
Will you sound the alarms? Or self-righteously wonder
how they got in so deep, how they sunk so low...
Don’t you see they’ve got needles inside their blood-flow?

When your mother is found in alduteress’ clothes
Will you hold her hand, or add to the blows?
Will you scold her and beat her for the “life she chose?”
Only notice the thorns, and ignore the rose?
Will you remember her smile, and the stories she told?
Or will you rip off her garments, expose her to the cold?
The demons that have made their home in her womb-
Will you exorcize them or pour salt on her wounds?

Don’t taste only sugar and expect me to ignore
the fact that some can’t even taste anymore.
Don’t condescend your sister with your saddle placed high.
If you could just see the plank in your eye...
Don’t throw rocks at glass homes and invite me to join you.
There are other perspectives than the lens that you look through.
The only word I can lend before that rock’s thrown:
“Let he without sin cast the first stone”