Measurements

This is one of those moments where I just started to write, and I'm not entirely sure what I mean by it. I emotionally understood what I wrote, but I doubt I could explain with other words what I meant to say. Either this fails or succeeds. Tell me which it is.

Any man may take the measure of another’s arm,

twisting cloth tape measures from phalanges

to the humerous’ horny nob, and find thereby

the limit of his deeds. But who will fathom

the caverns of the heart? Who now dares

to take time from their own endeavors,

investigate and invest, and find not limits

but the love that lies behind each act.

Do you fear? Find that rod, to better

met out lashes when we fall short,

and cringe on that day you are measured

and find the tall rod towering over

your bruised and broken bones.