Morning Dew |
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<< Back | By Fenrir Greycloth |
Your anvil is the earth, and with your right arm You span the arc of heaven like the sun. Eight decades on this scaffolding a - lifetime - I sought a sign of you, but there was none. Under my chisel marble fell to stonedust, But only torsos, idols would be born. I found you not, elusive, radiant, sunburst, Who glowed there pulsing under every stone. I have myself become an ancient stone block, Split by vines, a still, curmudgeonly old rock, But in my soul the old flame yet burns on. How can I shed this flesh that holds me prisoner? Strike me, if you can love a hoary sinner, Divine Sculptor, My God. I am the stone. Michelangelo's Last Prayer by George Faludy |