The Space

Walking to Andrea,

In that solitary walk,

Across the desert,

In the scorching heat

Thirsty Simony,

Could see no life around.

Times were tough,

Abandoned was he,

Walked uphill across the sand dunes,

Simoni was all alone.

With no caring shade,

With no drop of quenching water,

With no shoulder to rest.

Was he all alone,

Walking up to Andrea.

With every stride ahead,

There were more unknown,
There were more thorns and uphills.

There was more solitude,
There were more challenges.

Tired was he,

Defeated and wronged was he.

But his spirit was young,

Undaunted and brimming full

With sacredness and Love.

For he had created a Space.

A Space around him.

That guarded his soul,

Away from all that is evil,

Away from all that is dark.

Away from all that is in-humane.

The Space was a canvas for his brush,

It was the marble for his chisel,

It was that empty arena,

Where he could compose his own note.

In that Space,

Kept Simoni creating,

The symphony of Love, Faith, and Hope.

With the power of that Symphony,

Kept he walking, on and on.

For all, what appeared

were the wrinkled skin,

the gray hair, the white beard,

The parched feet.

But deep inside

Was a brimming fountain of life,

Of understanding, Of compassion, Of love.

Deep inside was the ever youthful self,

Guarded by his Space,

Working to see God,

With every passing moment in his life,

Either through his sculptures,

Or his paintings, or his songs.

Centered was Simoni on the Ideal,

On the Archetype, on the Beauty.

Kept he on, his journey to Andrea.

He did not know what would he find

Upon reaching Andrea.

But he knew for sure.

It was the journey, and not the destination,.

Giving him the opportunity to see

His Truth, His God, His Love.

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