two masks made
two masks sent
t'was a very strange event
one was clay
broken and rent
the other
rebar and cement

the concrete gave
a passing stare
had it's nose up in the air
the clay had runnels
lines of care
it was no longer
smooth and fair

yes
the clay had lines
and runnels deep
from the tears
which it did weep

the Hand which made both
tried the hearts
the concrete face
staid its cold art
the mask of clay
shattered apart

the concrete looked on
in destain
she would never feel pain

gently, gently
the great Hand tended
the cracked restored
and quietly
mended

what had been
weak clay and mesh
was renewed
and made
flesh

concrete had smiled
was now made small
for she saw
the
wrecking ball


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/16/2016

the wind
sculpted the dunes,
in daylight—
allowing the sun
to paint, thru its light
the lucent spirit— of the dunes'
motley peaks and fevered breadth

the wind
carved the dunes,
at night—
allowing the moon
to sketch, thru its glow
the mystic soul— of the dunes'
muted slopes and cold blanket roll

Worthless words
In wasted ink
Nowhere thoughts
Are all I think

Shall I map
This living mess
From death to birth
From cursed to blessed

As I write of love
Slipped through my hands
With every word
This heartbeat ******

To relive the past
In a flowery array
What worthless words
Would I convey ...