Category: Poetry

presented a block of marble
accompanied by this plan:
I was to take my chisel
and carve myself a man.

A subtractive process
something I had never done
I took up the task
thinking it might be fun.

I tapped upon the stone
I chipped the block away
every blow was thoughtful
deciding what could stay

it took me near a lifetime
I finished my man of stone
what I saw then startled me
I had made the man my own

I had chiseled my own image
I had carved myself exact
I beheld a marble mirror
my every detail there intact

every line upon his face
all the hairs upon his head
the soul within his eyes
all were mine instead

I realize now, my marble man
he and I are bound as one
we each make each other
and no blow can be undone

the block of marble is my life
the chisel is my choice
I am left with what I make
knowing it lacks a voice

it can not explain itself
all will see it as it is
every man, he has this task
the marble man is his

taking a side road instead,
i chanced upon a little head,
distressed upon the street.

i parked the car for a better look,
i could never have mistook,
there a bird too weak to tweet.

i scooped him up with instant love,
the tamest bird one could think of,
sat just next to me on the seat.

we hurried home and i cleaned his eye,
it was wounded and he could not fly,
i offered him things to drink and eat.

he sat upon my finger, and let me pet his head,
he started to doze off, so I tucked him into bed.
a modest cage covered with a sheet.

hours later he woke and ate more yet,
and acted more lively than he had since we met,
what a truly splendid young bird to meet!

the next morning he looked at me and i knew,
our time together was done – and away he flew.
the moment was profoundly bitter-sweet.

i sorely missed my new-found friend,
albeit i was glad that he was on the mend,
i wondered if, again, we would ever meet.

hours later i spotted, out of the corner of my eye,
my bird-friend, surely, just flying by!
he had come back again for an evening treat.

he sat on my finger, and ate all he could,
i offered him his cage, and he understood.
he slept for hours, now quite replete.

i too slept, with dreams of him freely flying,
and fancied myself that I had kept him from dying.
alas, it turns out that death we could not cheat.

the next morning I excitedly uncovered his cage,
found only a body, and sadness I could not then gauge.
our friendship was too short and incomplete.

my friend, he flew his final flight,
he had died alone sometime in the night.
life served us both up defeat.

~rest in peace my friend.