The Sculptor and the Sculpture

“If I may,

I’d like to shape you out of clay,”

Said the sculptor to the sculpture

As his hands began to play.

The art was yet unrealized,

But the artist had devised

His plan to bring the thought to life –

Then, suddenly, he improvised.

He introduced an imperfection,

Removed a fairly central section,

Then covered up the hollowed hole,

Invisible to eye’s inspection.

Some magic in the sculptor’s mind

Gave breath, and atoms realigned

To live, as all creation paused,

For here was something new defined.

It felt the air expand its chest.

At first it seemed content to rest,

But then it yearned for something more

And started on its endless quest.

Was it correct, this sculptor’s ploy

To make the sculpture search for joy

Outside itself? It’s led to greed

And wars from Gettysburg to Troy.

But there are times in life’s great trial

When what is lacking turns the dial

And spurs us to create a better world.

It’s then we see the sculptor smile,

For, though it’s difficult to fathom,

The sculptor named the sculpture Adam.


This is a fourth poem in a series about beginnings. It takes some creative license and re-imagines the Biblical story of humanity's origin, in light of some of our failings and our better parts.