From a slab of cold marble,
pale as death,
weighty and strong,
an artist
with pictures in mind
and art in his chisel
creates a delicate face,
full of health, beauty, movement and grace.
From a rock, stone-cold,
dead, hard,
arises a phoenix,
a creation
aglow with vigor.
And she looks at me
with eyes, light and dancing,
bidding me to come
and pray.
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