chipped granite

Before you bounded into my life
A free spirt full of energy and vigor, ready to live
I'd carved a little life out for myself
chipped it out of a hard slab of granite.
It was roughly hewn and I wasn't entirely
Satisfied with how it had turned out

But the granite was so hard
I had assumed that what I'd chipped and shaped
Was the way that it would always be
Yes there would be a pebble that crumbled off occasionally
A change in direction, a slight bend in the road
But that life I'd sculpted
It would never be substantially different
From that chipped slab of granite.

You came into my life like an explosion
A stick of dynamite that did far more
Than chip that life I'd carved
Within moments, that scultputre was dramatically
Reshaped
I was unable to stand back early on and examine
How the shape had morphed into something
Similar, but yet decidedly better, yet less clear.
It would take time before the excitement and chaos
Of your explosion into my life
Revealed itself to my heart and soul - and my mind.

It's been many years since your initial stumble, tumble
Screeching run into this staid and solid life
I had chiseled out for myself
Since you took that benign sculpture
And guided my hand to make it quirky, softer
More complete

It was only after the proverbial dust settled
After I acclimated myself to you being there in some form
Leading me to approach life ever so slightly differently
Look at it from a unique angle
And picture it not around me, but for me, as a part of me
That I realized the impact you had had, and would always have
How much you changed that simple little sculpture
Into a piece that so much more accurately reflected me.

Now as suddenly as you burst into my life
And changed and chipped that rock hard granite
You've changed your own sculpture
In the end, my hand brought those changes
Though I did not guide them but instead inadvertently forced them
I truly hope I chipped a little here and there, too - made things smoother
Or clearer, or more shiny
But maybe I'll never know that for sure.

And now, now, you're gone.
Or mostly gone.
You certainly are not over my shoulder
Wanting to help shape that sculpture, guide that chisel.

I look at the chunk of granite that is my life
And these years have taught me that
This chisel in my hand is really mine to guide
But without you here to show me who I am
Remind me that I can do this
I don't know how.