Judgement, And Holiness Poem by Eric Cockrell

you who would judge
from atop your virginal towers
of self assurance

who speak with the voice
of the god that your money bought,
your god of wars.

with swords of glass,
and the vengeance of
prejudicial morality

save your breath!
the lie exposes itself.
eternity doesnt stand trial

in small minded courts.

'no difference between the
sacred and the profane'
a holy man once spoke.

i proclaim every moment,
every slice of life, to be holy!
whether scriptures, a new born child,

or a mound of cow dung.
every thing that can be touched,
can be felt, can be given

is equal in holiness.
every breath of being
is a gift!