life is carved like a statue, sculptor : experience |
Empty of form, free of mind I come to life in the desert The burning breeze With frills of light And sequins of dust The fragrance of rust – my cloak As rock I stand, among prickly shrubs Tall and bent, in the desert A battle was fought Eons ago, with metal and life Both now manure To feed no plant, to color no flower But to straddle the winds of time And come coat my dry lips in a manner sublime The rattler, all brown and gold Slips down my back with a rat In his throat, tail still sticking out of his mouth Here in the heart of the desert Inexorable rock pieced sharp and smooth Strike my neutrality, Slash my soul Tear and torture my decrepit corpse They chisel and carve my future Forming and filling, with a free mind Alone I live, in the desert I sit in the fire, all day long I sleep in the frost each night The rare moisture hardens to ice Breaks me apart from within Soon to be pursued by light Did I say empty? That was a mistake, I am A toy of nature, Rock - Just hard clay So as for form, I am an Impressionist Now I stand, proud and grand Might through solitude And finally, along comes man Trudging beside his puzzled camel Vulnerable and strong at once He shares my soul… His muscles frame his infinite eyes They flicker and smile and frown He stares at me for a long time And hungers for renown Inspired, he paints Hues and splashes of my life He is proud and happy To see the art of his strife And he walks away…… I was destroyed and remade Carved into beauty by pain But nature isn’t satisfied In rest I have never lain And never will, for the zephyr Continues and the skies live on I eat myself, for I AM nature I kill myself and am reborn I AM THE STATUE |