Decades ago, a Jewish friend of mine wrote this little poem, and I have never forgotten it:
He who would judge,
Let him, perforce
As a fine balance
Weigh pound for pound.
May he judge lightly
Lest by Decree
He judge himself,
Eternally.
by my friend, MB.
Beautiful.
And, dear lady, I also offer this, which was written by someone very near and dear to me:
THE ICONOCLAST
One image yet is not destroyed;
‘tis one he still holds dear
It is his proud reflection
of his visage in the mirror
It speaks: “Lean in, come close to me
and hear the words I say”
His ear inclines for siren’s call—
“Forget thy feet of clay”
Very lovely.
Fine insight.