Such strong hands made to create,
The sculptor sees not with his eyes, but with his heart.
He creates beautiful things out of not so beautiful materials,
and he teaches those around him that art is an extension of oneself.
Although burdened by grief, and hurt by infidelities,
He still loves with an open heart and teaches with good intention.
Hephaestus, though not easy on the eyes,
Is easy on one’s soul.
He does not fear heartbreak but welcomes it’s inspiration when it inevitably comes.
He relies on his students, their hearts of gold,
To ease away his troubles with helping hands.
His art is an extension of himself.
Blades cut away his pain as he creates,
Beeswax layers on copper plates to etch his feelings into eternity.
His work lives longer than himself,
Even as an immortal.
Teaching he does,
Lonely he is.