One Masterpiece

I’ve shaped these verses
Searching for the form unshown
The composition rehearsed
Illusive and unknown
That speaks to the truths
Standing ever alone.
There’s an ember in the ashes
That must always survive,
And a young vine amongst devastation
Spreading, stretching, thriving
Producing fruit in the face of adversity
In the mass of wasted dying:
It produces new life.

I have seen this all my days,
And I chisel my words
A million different ways
Hoping to expose the form
Of the sacred work

Of the Ancient of Days.

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