Divenire
are you ready to become
said the sculptor
the center of that dark room
the cold marble was silent
but it shivered
the sculptor took his knife
twirled it in his hands--
the blade, (yes, knife,
as stone would become flesh)
a hot and shining sun
he twirled the long handle
pale and dead as the embers of moonlight
that danced around it
waves of veins sprung forth
black as deep blood--
but they were not to escape
the fine thin skin that coated
the flesh that had once been stone
the dark lingered in the new eyes
in the new heart
the old soul
a sparkling shadow of the deeper past
and the sculptor was silent
the sun rose in hues
russet like the blood on his knife
his creation
scarred and beautiful
thanked him
said farewell
and the sculptor was silent
and the sculptor smiled
said the sculptor
the center of that dark room
the cold marble was silent
but it shivered
the sculptor took his knife
twirled it in his hands--
the blade, (yes, knife,
as stone would become flesh)
a hot and shining sun
he twirled the long handle
pale and dead as the embers of moonlight
that danced around it
waves of veins sprung forth
black as deep blood--
but they were not to escape
the fine thin skin that coated
the flesh that had once been stone
the dark lingered in the new eyes
in the new heart
the old soul
a sparkling shadow of the deeper past
and the sculptor was silent
the sun rose in hues
russet like the blood on his knife
his creation
scarred and beautiful
thanked him
said farewell
and the sculptor was silent
and the sculptor smiled