This week’s poem in the Catholic Poetry Room is by Shamik Banerjee.
Two Sculptors
One has his studio at Old Town Square.
Intransigent, he rises very early,
Unrolls the shutter right at five, prepares
The modeling clay that’s pliant, soft, and pearly.
So light-fingered his hands that work the busts,
The fantoccinis, statuettes, and dolls
Of varied hues and sizes, large or small!
He kneads and coils; he pinches and adjusts.
The second Sculptor sits upon a throne,
Yet always humble, with a gleaming face,
Whose methodology is never known;
It’s said He has impenetrable ways.
In skill, He ranks above the former one,
For He employs a different kind of mold
Of clay from which all living things unfold,
Which also formed our planet and the sun.
Apart from sculpting, there’s another aim
That these men share. The former gives his toys
To little lads and girls but never claims
A single coin. His joy—their boundless joy.
The latter shaped Himself into a piece,
Centuries past, to mix with humankind,
Gave in to trials of His flesh and mind;
His joy—our suffering’s end through His decease.
Shamik Banerjee is a poet from Assam, India, where he resides with his parents. His poems have been published in Modern Reformation, Ink Sweat & Tears, Autumn Sky Daily, Ekstasis Magazine, The Society of Classical Poets, and Sparks of Calliope, among others. He secured second position in the Southern Shakespeare Company Sonnet Contest, 2024.
