Hiding in the stone

I've heard it said
That figures lie
Hiding in the stone,
For the sculptor to set free

I've often wondered
At this mystery...
How does the sculptor
Know the real story?

I've been fortunate to
Have met many Masters
Adept at their art and
In their own way, unique sculptors

I've felt their glance
Pierce through my soul
Purging everything within
That didn't make me whole

I've experienced
Their words, their music, their art
Set me free, liberate me
To follow my own dear heart

I've let the sands of time
Chisel away
At everything within
That didn't need to stay

I've set upon my path
Seen how my journey
Becomes my destination
When I am present, it's uncanny

I've learned the art
Of looking within
Of trusting life even if
My patience runs thin

I've witnessed how my thoughts
Create my reality
How everything is me
No possibility of duality

Now,
I've given up figuring out
That which is limitless
Un-knowable, inexpressible
Unbounded, formless

I've seen how there's no doing
There can be only being
Loving, Living Life
Laughing, Celebrating

That the seer, the sight, the scenery
They're all really one
I am the sculptor, I am the chisel,
I am the stone

- December 18, 2011
(This was first published in the book 'You are Michelangelo and You are David' by Shahana Dattagupta)

Picture Courtesy: Akshardham Temple, Gujarat