The Sculptor Of Hearts Poem by John Devaraj

It was the same hammer and chisel that we know
For the last two thousand years he let it flow
He beat the stone each day 30 000 blows
He removed everything that was not to see
And revealed with gentleness what it was meant to be!
The strong mind and body of the creator
Made the hardest stone tremble and tender
He sought out the faults and cleavages of the stone
Till he could feel the shudder in his bones
The stiff resistance of the stone sculpted.
With the sweat of the brow melted
Many dreams were cut into the cold stone
Of feelings expressed, known and unknown
Of the rising tide of goodness
Of the soaring tale of the happiness
Of the joys and sorrows of kinship
Of trials and tribulations of friendship
Of eternal love and child play
Of immense beauty and passing innocence sway
Of the greed of power and possession
Of conquests and egoistic aggression.
The Artist fired by his imagination
Stood affected with truth and compassion
Put his hands, chisel and hammer together
Toiled relentlessly in incessant weather
Created beauteously for the pleasure of all
For he was the sculptor of hearts.

John Devaraj
Bangalore 10th July 2004' 12 19 am