Carved in Stone

I am leaving my marks on the stone
There is no force behind the throws of my hammer against the chisel
none greater than the repeatedly careful impacts I place
There is no menace, no anger, no craving for power over my subject
none felt, none spoken, none ever chased

I am leaving my marks on the stone
It is not a steep climb, one bite at a time, one nudge in the granite
carving out a gentler feat
Don't be mistaken, there is a hunger in me, too
but i am taking my time to eat

I am leaving my marks on the stone
My fingers speak its language, every crack, every curve, every secret in the pattern
a silent guide of what it yearns to be
So many loud truths are drowning out the whispers, are obscuring the path
they seem to forget, what I'm carving out is me