The marble sits in an expectant silence,
Waiting, fearful of what is to come.
Yet, excited. Now committed, it cannot run and hide,
Only hope, finally prepared for its fate.
The sculptor strikes with hammer and chisel,
Painful blows carving away layers of stone,
Digging deep into the core, cracking apart the hard shell,
Shattered fragments scatter over the floor.
Stone heart now exposed, the sculptor gently
shapes the rock, adding form with soft touches.
Deliberate blows and unconscious art combine,
guiding the marble as it learns to find its true self.
The sculptor comes and goes,
Each time bringing a voyage of emotions.
Meanwhile, the marble sits,
Waiting for the artist’s touch.
Waiting for completion.