Beautifully carved & stoned, like a marble edifice.
Immaculate is this concept of the newborn life.
It's eyes wide open with prosperity and fingers grazing with curiosity.
Fully aware of it's being, but a far-cry from understanding
Just lays there and waits...
Surrounded by thoughts…soft and gentle-- Like the face of GOD
Breathing nature’s essence
Its eyes cries emerald rivers which speaks of peace and warfare
hearing only what it wishes.
With blissful ignorance, it anticipates to climb the mountain of it's fragile mind; jagged and rocky are the paths…tints of blue and grey and black come across.
And at the top, it's conscience rest in a hammock of moss.
Stark and tender it looks, laying low and subtle.
Passive in it's approach to be vocal…unseen are it's closed eyes of pale blue,
What can only be seen are the opaque tears of melancholy
Tracing down the shallow rivers down it's cheeks.
This DEAD-struck body of thought resides here...survives here…As it does throughout this life.
Let us awaken it from it's terror and fear not our own souls.
Let it live, once again.
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