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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Coral life forms in copious swarms feast in the Cambrian chyme, dividing their cells and forming their shells to end on the seafloor as lime. Tectonic churning and magma upturning renders marble whiter than bone. The marble is mined, but the cutters are blind to the angel confined in the stone. A young sculptor arose, with a bend in his nose and a transcendent creative spark, charged with ambition to fulfill a commission, an angel for St. Dominic's Ark. An artist sublime who will live for all time, his genius is to see things not shown. For an angel to achieve he first has to perceive its splendor enclosed in the stone. At dawning's first glow he surveys the tableau of the blocks the stone cutters supplied. In some he sees dreams of potential themes, but only one holds an angel inside. “A beautiful thing never gives so much pain as does failing to hear it and see it.” The block that he chose was rejected by those who then lied and claimed to foresee it. With talent and skill he falls to with a will, surrounded by rubble and relic. His method you see, for the angel to free is to remove all the bits not angelic. Michelangelo’s art for all time stands apart but there's something further to heed. For there's a bit more to the fine metaphor in the tale of the angel he freed. “A beautiful thing never gives so much pain as does failing to hear it and see it.” For in all our insides a bright angel abides and is just waiting for something to free it: to remove all the parts which harden our hearts, to chip out the darkness and pride, to smooth the rough patches, to polish the scratches and unshackle the angel inside. © January 26, 2013
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