Shaped by sea-known hands, this flawless round, <br />scooped from the hallowing wave while sea birds cried <br />above the cove of prayer, is poised within <br />our pity on the hollowed flank of time <br /> <br />that lies like dunes along the seascape air, <br />white as the mercy bird that smooths our sound <br />to stillness in the cool dream of her tone, <br />is this essential instant in the mind, <br />nirvana folding thought through praying palms <br />become stilled birth escaped from fare and flaw <br />to coolth of poise on peace, the endless tide <br />fused into stone upon a timeless shore.<br /><br />Robin Skelton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-an-untitled-sculpture/
