Two Sculptors

  • Two Sculptors

     I dreamed I saw a studio

    And watched two sculptors there. 

    The clay they used was a child’s mind


    And they fashioned it with care.



    One was a teacher-the tools he used


    Were books, music, and art


    The other, a parent, worked with a guiding hand


    And a gentle, loving heart.



    Day after day, the teacher toiled with a touch


    That was careful, deft, and sure


    While the parent labored by his sid


    And polished and smoothed it o’er.



    And when at last, their task was done,


    They were proud of what they had wrought.


    For the things they had molded into the child


    Could neither be sold nor bought.



    And each agreed they would have failed


    If either had worked alone.


    For behind the parent stood the school


    And behind the teacher, the home.