Poems ✍️

His parents guarded the temple,
answered questions; the child
wandered, looked, later read
all that was said;

now, he selects the stone,
listening all the time, hoping that
he hears the voice of Krishna say,
take this piece…

sharpens his chisel; prays;
with each tap, a chiselled prayer
rings out the question; magnified; or diminished?

chips away – outside himself, inside himself –
all that is not Krishna;
until finally, all that awaits
is the faintest sound of flute, of lightest laughter,
heard within the sculptor’s inner ear:

stone pretending to be Krishna;
Krishna, pretending to be stone.