Sunday, March 22, 2009

Piety (for Leo)

My hands run along a smooth sculpture,
a bust,
and I wonder what hands ran before,
what heart molded this stone,
what careful eye scanned its being,
what patient mind roamed humanity's beauty,
and birthed it out of the Earth.
A memory captured within a frame.
The sky lets out the tears, the rain,
the sculpture shines. Like God.
From every hand, his beauty spills.

Photobucket


Jamie

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