Hear the sounds of thunder in my calling.
To you, the block of marble, I shall sculpt.
To the days you were left stalling.
Days lost in the deserts of self doubt
I’m the the leader ,which found you, then helped guide you out.
Nights left in deep and  water filled despair
I dove in
I grabbed you’re sinking hand
And lifted you back to air.
Wet and wild
Older
However wise
An elder with the heart of a child.

Learning as we walk together
Warmer in numbers then when we suffered alone
In the dark life which we thought that was forever.
The figure has been carved
No longer “the thinker”
He’s “the runner” keeping in time with hope.
The weight of  The heart’s hunger, now satisfied, from the once “thin and starved”
The sculpture carved

Full and well fed.
To keep grip on a strong built rope
Now the sculptor
Has earned his restful bed.