I often wonder why others plan,
those things they desire to hide;
often thinking I’d like to scan;
to discover their motives inside.
But motives are designs by others;
not made for my eyes to see;
thoughts of sisters and brothers;
not meant for the likes of me.
What is it about life’s mystique;
I wish to be involved within?
Why must I always wish to critique;
from where does such folly begin?
The Master insisted, we are not to judge;
yet, I’m still often tempted to pry.
My efforts persisted, I would not budge;
why can’t I, on the Master rely?
All such secrets are pearls of division;
keeping us from the family above;
our thinking requires thoughtful revison;
for secrets are not pearls of love.
Compassion and love are answers;
judgment requires understanding;
all divisions lead only to cancers;
and God is always commanding.
Excuses are merely a picnic’s flies;
attempting to get at our meal;
reasons are usually seasoned lies;
our true motives, to reveal.