Self-Sculpture

I raised the sharp chisel into the air,
And struck a corner from my stony space.
Careful pressure bore a head bold and bare,
On which nicks scored the features of a face.
I chipped off flakes from the lid of the eye,
And blew away the silt so I could see.
Broad downstrokes impressed the stone to comply,
As the upper body came to agree.
I stepped back to ponder the increment,
And watching me was the notion to cease,
A man held within his own element,
In a state ever just beyond release.
     I put aside the mallet and the knife,
     My art had found its reflection of life.