Chipping Away the Stone

A New Poem

All beings suffer 
so many hurts
in this life.
We can only hope
that they land 
like the blows 
of a sculptor's chisel,
chipping away the stone 
until the form 
that is meant to emerge 
is revealed,
that we receive them
with hearts that refuse
to shut down,
that the beauty exposed
makes us shine, 
our particular colors, 
glowing bravely 
and brilliantly.
I don't know about you,
but I refuse to be in service 
to my troubles.
Oh, they demand attention 
and won't be relegated onto
some high shelf in some dark closet.
My steely resolve and my prayer 
are to find strength enough 
and enough resolve to
marvel at the Mystery,
and to recognize how I am
shaped and changed  
into original essence.