Michelangelo
It took Michelangelo
To find where David was hidden
In a chunk of rock,
To chip and scrape away
All that was not the shepherd king.
It took Michelangelo
To find the finger of God
By placing on
The sameness of a ceiling
Those blends of particulars
That made Adam.
It took Michelangelo
To find a mother grieving,
Holding her sacrificial lamb,
Entombed in stone,
Awaiting resurrection
In hands and eyes.
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