Hi all,
I found this poem I posted in 2013 here on my blog. Most of you were not reading me back then….so I hope you enjoy it today:)

From Stone

It started out as stone, with the Sculptor peering in the window
a stone- piece placed upon a board, a game of chess,  
and a bit of unsure give and take while waiting for a train.
It takes time for stones to smooth in waves or gifted hands;
it takes the patience of an Artist to carve a masterpiece,
from stone… from only stone.

Oh the chiseling had its painful parts along with aching joy,
skilled fingers leaving gashes, excess caution tossed away.
The slab was smaller now and it began to shine and then refine,
with just one blow so carefully placed, it broke right into two.
Two from one were fashioned, as the Artist’s vision grew,
and many angles tried and cast aside, to see the two align.

 Oh the thinning had its painful parts along with aching joy,
to place them on the edge would be to invite them both to fall.
So delicate, as if blown by breath, how quickly they would shatter.
There was nothing left of stone, just glass, transparent, and reflecting.
If one fell on top the other, it would be the end of both, so vulnerable and sheer,
and they became like precious jewels, when moonlight rose to hold them.

The Artist was their owner and he chose to put them far from harm.
He hid them in His chess game, with the board so firmly on the table.
Most people looking in would not even be aware that they were there.
Stable in the center of the table, they were outside the game that was being played,
hidden in plain sight, two crystal figurines that would cry and sing with just a finger
running down their middle.  How could it be, they were once made from stone?
from stone… from only stone.

Karima Hoisan
October 21st 2013
Costa Rica