Poem on the Train.

I saw this poem on the train and I liked it so much that I took out a pen and paper and jotted it down and I thought I'd share it with you. It is good to remember that we are the product of God's loving hands and that only through Him do we become fruitful.

Your anvil is the Earth, and with your right arm
You span the arc of Heaven like the sun.
Eight decades on this scaffolding - a lifetime -
I sought a sign of you, but there was none.

Under my chisel marble fell to stonedust,
But only torsos, idols would be born.
I found you not, elusive, radiant sunburnst,
Who glowed there pulsing under every stone.

I have myself become an ancient stone block,
Split by vines, a still, curmudgeonly old rock,
But in my sould the old flame yet burns on.

How can I shed this flesh that holds me prisoner?
Strike me, if you can love a hoary sinner,
Divine Sculptor, my God, I am the stone.

Michaelangelo's Last Prayer

- George Faludy