Inward Reasons

`

On a hand-hewn pedestal
imagination coalesced;
on milk-white face alight
eyes sparkle with a liquid flame.

Some build ivory towers,
these hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted orphan dream.

Across time and Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.

Some can only imagine
what others have without trying;
when vicarious journeys fail,
reality's block they assail.

`