I lean over the display case, and one CAMEO in particular catches my eye. It is delicate and a little mysterious. Simple, too, just a figure on a chair holding a staff, in black on a white stone. The noises around me recede into a background DRONE, as I feel pulled into this incredible intersection of beauty and history. Curious, I read what the curator WROTE about this ancient piece, the personification of the city of Rome from the 4th century. What marvelous work, skill, and art.

I try to imagine how many attempts it took to achieve this, how many stones BROKE, how many calluses built up before getting to this perfect object. I feel so grateful for this moment.

Georg’ann

Is there a patron SAINT to guide me through this CHORE?
One to whom I can light a candle, chant a prayer
in exchange for a modicum of comfort.
Where am I to begin?
How deeply should I PROBE?
Do I go for BROKE or turn away?
On my knees, a supplicant
seeking to be released
from the responsibility of acting alone
for the good of so many.

Heather