Blank slate,
white canvas
a resilient clay to be shaped and molded
empty vessel, waiting container
a precious metal to be distilled and poured
black as night, thick as day
a timeless thief lies in wait
anticipating
chewed off fingertips
of the artist
the sweet whispers of the chisel
the hard lines and the rough angles
of custom and culture
and a smooth sanding of time.
Indian Goddess
(Kali Ma)
a Frida look-alike
hints of the exotic
tempered with a dull sheen
she's a pin-up without a poster
a Jewish princess
dark features reminiscent of the Moors
she tumbles in fluid and grace
revolving brilliant beams
refracted in the spinning light
a kaleidoscope of color, shape and wonder
dancing
in the exertion and the friction, a heat index rises
from the center out, the sculptor melts the coagulating putty
now, a pulpy mass grey with brackish specks of dirt and grindstone
he turns the palm-sized ball
over and over and over again
in his calloused hands, in his palms of wretched delight
a myriad of possibilities
sits
in wait.
