wAXings

Salt-Carver

I look to the stars to teach me,
but they shift
and scorch the earth at my feet.
How can I speak when I eat all my words?
Amber waves crash at my feet,
staining my ankles crimson.

Lo, the sculptor stares up at the cliff and wonders
how he could carve a piece so wonderfully marvelous,
though as he stands and stares, lightning strikes him.
If he survives, inspiration too shall hammer down,
and in turn, he ascends to a godlike mastery,
but if he dies, he lies forgotten, forever.