If marble people were

the world, some of us

would strike others

with great force

so we could inhabit

a circle of power,

until we were caromed

away in turn by the

sudden force of another.

Others would stand

tall and straight,

far above the antics

of such childlike games.

Doric, Ionic, Corinthian,

upright and unyielding,

we would carry the weight

of the ages with style

and stoic indifference.

Yet the rare ones would

be those who endured

the brutal assault

of hammer and chisel

to emerge transformed,

revealing the inherent

grace that lies hidden

in the branching veins

of earthbound stone.