The Sculptor Talks To Her Stone (Poetry)

“What magic have you got inside of you?
Who are you hiding, curled within your form?
And will you let me split apart and find
the figure I’ve imagined for so long?

I dream he’s sleeping many layers deep
and it will take raw energy and skill
to chip him free — release him from your shell
so thick with years — compacted clean and cold.

Your sanctity of marble will not tell
a single secret — leaving me to guess
and so I’m asking now such questions that
cannot be answered ’til the chisel shows

the only way into your old, old heart
reveals those perfect limbs in muscled stone
allows them life in stillness — in repose
and always ageless in their innocence.

Birthed by an act of love —
the gentle cut that triggers breath to flow
and keep it frozen — always on the edge
of understanding what I think I know.”