Originally published June 2016.

A couple days ago, while sitting in a warm hot tub looking up at the brilliant blanket of stars that make up the remote Colorado sky, I had an unexpectedly extremely enlightening conversation about the existential void that is fundamental in human nature with my best friend and a stranger. The next morning, while sitting in silence thinking about the conversation from the night before and feeling nothing but the warmth of the sun’s rays hugging my skin, I had a vision of an ice sculpture that crafted not by a human artist, but by the sun. Naturally, I started writing about it, and when I picked up my pen from the paper, this poem stared back at me. 

“Chisel of Light”

Sunlight falls

on an icy heart

and melts its walls

into Divine art.

 

Its rays, they chisel

into hardened stone

and break away

the lies outgrown.

 

And piece by piece

the excess leaves,

and as it jumps,

the heart, it screams

 

And pleads for it

to stay in tact

for once it is gone,

it will not

come back.

 

And yet,

 

If only

this heart could see

that this is not

a catastrophe,

 

For sometimes healing

feels like pain,

and being refined

is quite the same.

 

And now,

 

The last blocks fall

down with crashes

and reveal a sculpture

whose perfection flashes.

 

Alas, a shimmering swan emerges,

its wings still wet with dew.

It rubs its eyes and prepares for flight

to spring from winter

and start anew.

 

It could not take flight

if it weren’t for pain

of letting go

of hurt and shame,

 

For they weighed it down

and shut it inside

a cold jail cell,

a block of ice.

 

But now it is free

from the weight of the past

and can fly with ease

without fear of collapse.

 

Amidst the process

when the chisel is sharp,

we often resent it

and turn our hearts dark,

 

And block the light

that healing brings

to our hardened hearts

and to death’s cold sting.

 

Cheers to the Journey, and may your Spirit always reside in a state of wonder.