FOLDS OF LIGHT
The gentle folds within the flower
of the lily, the gentle look of
the folds of the robes of the Pietà,
flower of a few days, or the stone
of centuries, as each comes first to
the eye, the living thing, the living idea,
birth that there may be rebirth,
where the will drives inspiration,
and rekindles it with perseverance,
a struggle for emergence,
where the flower beams as a beacon;
cloth of stone, where the ashes of old
inspiration do not bury the garden,
but sustain it, a vision ignited,
the folds of celestial light;
finding Mother and Son within
the marble, where they were unrevealed
for millennia, sacred task a passion
for the finding, the mind driven, hands
without rest, with talents run deeper
and deeper, the folds of cloth of a
softness made for the eye, with a
luster like the lily, curve and fold
of memory and salvation, each in
its way the steady light of Heaven, as
empires rise and fall, and rise and fall again.