Our lovely Mantra is quite the firebrand tonight. She seems to have had enough and dressed for the occasion.
The good bet is Mantra was in the examining room where the poem takes place. It seems she had a fly on the wall’s view of the entire affair. Obviously, she is not the only one who can see what is happening.
Blindness is convicting. It lays bare opinions and judgments for what they are. Mantra is looking at the part which we may wish never to be seen. Perhaps, we all have this type of blindness. Can you see what she is seeing?
You stabbed yourself square in the eye
To excuse willful blindness and
Come the victim to be treated.
The doctor asks how much you see.
“From this eye I see just fine.”
He stares at you silently
As he works to remove the stick.
You blather opinion freely.
Before he’s done, he is ready
To pinch the pain killer line.
The manure you’re shoveling
Effluviates the hospital,
Sickening all with toxic fumes.
The “P” on your chart’s not “patient”.
“Paradox” is what you are.
Your good eye spots the evil
In every single passerby,
Yet fails to discern your image,
Tarnished, abusive and ugly
In the framed, full-length mirror.
Nor the shattered glass – glittery,
Sparkling – as lightning strikes your head,
But not soon enough to stop you
From throwing one last jagged stone.
Glass house destroyed from inside.
Have you ever criticized someone’s behavior without noticing you do the same thing or something very similar? Do you know someone who can point out everyone else’s faults but never knows or admits they are wrong? Why is it so easy to judge others? Do we hold others to a higher standard?