Though
Life started out a sketchpad
A wreck of dark thick lines scribbled scrawling
And beating across my eyes, I am now
Round thumbing and indexing smooth
Smoothing stretching out to
limits permit me, I do not bleed
all over it, do not bleed the goal now is form,
Light must pass through it
They did the best they could
I prune I evolve
I create new neural pathways
I scrape the scrawl that wreck,
the carbon shavings, the pulverized
child-self from pit to gradient see
how I am rising into
an orb, life like, real, crystal
Charles Snyder 