Plain As Day
I saw a sculptor,
plain as day,
chiseling on some hardened clay;
as all the pieces fell away,
I closed my eyes.
The image stayed.
For years I pondered,
and tried to draw
a picture of this metaphor,
in hope I could record the scene
before it was no longer seen
on the palette of my mind.
One eve's repose as I reclined,
through the opening of my eye
I find a deeper depiction
has come in view...
The sculpture holds a chisel too;
sculpting gently the sculptor's heart...
The artist,
smiling,
a world apart,
is doing what he loves to do...
Watch for this,
you'll see it too.