A form to take by hand to carve, a life of practice in a glimpse.
A craft borne from ages aeons passed taught and felt with instinct and foresight.
So it comes from rough hewn stone or fallen log,
So it comes from memory and mind,
A love, a hate and symbol for all,
A sculpture to focus intent.
The artist forgotten, a craft a mystery,
But always admired it is.
A prompt response.