All good.

All good.

There is no dominance

To be proud of

Fear lies deep

Down in the bowl.

The foundering root of us

Surrounded by lifeless rock

Unfashioned stone

Expressionless

A face caught in a fault line

To be rehewn

With little empathy,

Grief is dispersed

In the smelting.

I am stiffened

Dreams are as much of life

As they are of death.

The flower of my imagination

Permeates the soil

Fertile in my belief

Of the newly found.

All life is rehoused

From the rigid confines

That hold tight

To the prisoner.

Press me to thine bosom

There is peace in it

A disentanglement.

There is little life in marble

No beating heart.

Figurines emerge

Never fully formed.

Blind harpies inherit

A breathless landscape,

So much of it is uncontained.

The sweep of it

Escaping the limit

Of the imagination

Which remains

A vessel for all the demons

Who live among us

Waiting to be exposed.

Tear me out of the ground

Mask my fears

Cement my features,

In stone, I am timeless.