A glint from my corner’s eyes
Reveal a curious piece acrest
A statue profiling a field of wanting
And it sat there simply squatting
…squatting, as if in jest

Thru frim  and fro of vagrant wind
A flat cold rock it lie
Unmindful of the blow…
…the knock
          …the touch
From souls that may have passed by

Was that in some Nature’s brew
Or was it deigned by cosmic light
That conspired to give the statue core
The sturdy skin of outer door
A challenge for its right?

A wayward, simple worm, it seems
Thrown off from some shaking leaf
Probed vainly away at the statue door
Seeking warmth from the cold like a thief

It chanced upon a tiny crack
Chiseled mem’ries in slumber
It squirmed and pressed and passed on deeper
Wriggling with utmost tact

Despite blank walls at every turn
It groped on, earing a message
Thru innards of lost dreams
Inching thru lost woes
Gnarling ‘round its passage

And further, further, ever deeper,
The worm then sensed a light
A fathomed warmth that throbbed within
It writhed closer in delight

It then curled up and nestled there
For, very plainly, in its view
In this cold place, tho’ cob-webbed,
It found a home anew

Should whenever in my mind’s eye
Reveal once more the statue so dear
So clear would I sense its beating hearth
Tho’, oddly, it would look back
With no qualms, no regrets and no tears.