Michelangelo’s Daughter

i am a daughter of michelangelo

chipping away with sculptor’s mallet

to free the man i see inside

frantic task with hammer and chisel                       

rasp and rifler

chaos flying from my hands

wounds inflicted

drawn to your frame

your structure

            block of granite

            chunk of stone

reaching to embrace you

finding no softness

feeling no give

my ear against your chest listens

pulse pops

warmth spreads

i gather my tools

gather myself

moaning soft songs

wings folding like a mourning dove

melodies sloping downward

that only i can sigh

i take flight 

singing my story  

releasing my song

beyond range

distant  

clear

strong

your own song  follows me

                                    - Janey Pease