Reflection
Warrior and poet
POETRY
The Sculptor
He stands there for an hour, staring at a large stone.
His chisel and hammer lie motionless.
A step forward, and the first hammer strike sends dust into the air.
Clanging fills the hall as a mound of debris collects at the sculptor's feet.
The amorphous takes shape, and a granite warrior emerges from once lifeless rock.
Courageous and confident, the warrior stands there, casting a shadow upon his maker.
The sculptor steps back.
The surface is too rough, its spirit too proud.
Again, the chisel bites into the stone.
Thin shavings float to the ground.
The granite grows smooth, and the warrior's hardness softens.
Brute strength is replaced by gentle words.
Laconic brevity is carved into empathetic stoicism.
A marble poet surfaces. His face is kind, his heart forgiving.
But his hands are not calloused, and his shoulders are too narrow.
The sculptor stands silent.
"Can't I be both?"
He walks away from the mirror.
