If I could write a sculpture, 

she would have a soft face, 

an airy, moonstone countenance. 

She would be a breathing sculpture,

eyes soft as kittens ears,

sparkling clear, like sunned, morning water.  

Every breath, a freeing of form,

every breath, a being of form.

Her mouth would say nothing,

yet speak without speaking.

Scenting you, she's inspired to relay,

"Your spirit is shining!

 Can you tell?"

Aware of all sounds and all touch,

her shoulders love birds

as they land.  It is a kiss,

an honor, to be a resting place

for a winged creature.

All gentleness without moving,

all moving in slow gentleness,
sensing energy in stone and without,
all beginning with the softening of her face.

Her peace-filled reach would travel far 

far beyond, far beyond

her statue.