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Forty five years ago, I came across the most beautiful art ever

I was researching other things that I can’t seem to now recall

When, suddenly, I stumbled upon unique creations scattered

All around a quiet part of this little nook that I ventured into

Sculptures designed with such great detail and obvious care

I couldn’t believe no one else knew these designs existed here

That these figures were not as widely known as they should be

And to figure out why, I knew I had to track down their creator

As good of a researcher was I, it wasn’t easy tracking them down

I searched far and wide, and asked a few people, for this person

Until one day I came across a house high up on among some hills

It was a winding road that led to it with no other houses nearby

Something told me that I had to venture up to investigate this place

As I approached closer, I noticed the weather grew cooler here

The trees blowing back and forth as I drew up to the iron gates

The house was rather old and not kept up as it may have once been

I rang the bell and knocked on the door, but no one answered

So I had a choice of either going back home or going forward

My stubbornness led me to carry onward, and I’m glad I did

I barged inside the house to find it oddly quiet up close

Yet, from afar, I could hear music playing in one of the back rooms

Walking towards the sound, I saw more sculptures around

Each of different beings and things that I couldn’t interpret

Finally through the door, there stood a man carving away

Creating what seemed to look like some sort of beast this time

He was very startled at my presence being inside his home

After much explaining about myself and my interest, he eased

Not by much, as he still held up an air of mysteriousness

One that would never truly go away as I look back on it now

But he slowly let me into his creative mind and explained things

How long it took to create these sculptures and what the process was

How he first began to create them and why he hides them around

He told me he doesn’t hide them, they just haven’t been found yet

This sculptor seemed to be sociable, or at least once very talkative

However, he now resides in this house all by himself working

I didn’t mind knowing the sculptor, yet I wanted to know the man

The one behind the artwork that he makes and doesn’t share

I tried to ask more about where his family was or his friends

His response was silence as he wouldn’t share those details, though

I laid off asking about those for a while, until I had an idea for this

I’d come by the house every so often to the point he trusts me

Allowing me to venture around his house to look at more of his art

One day I decided to try and find his personal room for answers

And I found it tucked in the far back area of the huge, old house

There were a few photos of his family, but when he was little

I continued searching around the room, coming to the closet

It was there at the bottom, in the dark, where I found the box

Inside was piles of photos of his childhood and early adulthood

More photos of family and friends he spent time with laughing

I couldn’t help but wonder why he now lives in isolation here

At that moment of wonder, he caught me by surprise in anger

I’ll admit I was in the wrong to snoop, but I had to know it

Some things never get accomplished by just staying put

This was a gifted, good man that was wrongfully hidden

The world had to meet him, and I wanted to know him

Naturally, his anger led to me getting kicked out that day

I didn’t go by the house for several weeks which was tough

Until one day, close to the hills, I saw a sculpture laying around

To me, I saw it as a chance to try once more to go back up there

Surprisingly, he answered the door when I rang the bell

Perhaps he, too, may have missed the company as he let me in

After I apologized, once more, he surprised me again by talking

He spoke about his family and friends, and what happened

How his family, one by one, passed away early and tragically

Of his friends, who moved away or simply stopped connecting

He admits that he got along well with most people in general

But that he could never really click with anyone to fully trust

And so those relationships were always stuck on the surface

He spoke of a few others who tried to scratch to a deeper level

I could see the care and pain on his face speaking about them

As if he had wished things would’ve gone differently in his life

Eventually, he gave up on the world and closed himself to his

Focusing only on creating his sculptures that he was so good at

Building these things over time that highlighted a part of him

Like him, can only be seen several ways on the outside perspective

But on the inside, is filled with only one meaning that which he knows

He gave me a tour of his gallery of sculptures and spoke of each

First asking me for my interpretation before giving me the truth

Although I don’t think he spoke the whole truth about them

I wouldn’t blame him if he kept a piece of it only to himself

Because no matter the inspiration, a part of him was also inside

In the several weeks together, since, we’ve gotten closer

I even managed to crack some good smiles out of him a few times

We spent time exploring the grounds of his property day and night

What once was admiration for the sculptor and his artwork

Soon turned into attraction for the man behind the sculpting

He inspired me to lay down and look up at the stars, again, at night

To not fret if it’s snowing outside, rather to go out and dance in it

And to not be afraid to open my eyes and see the world anew each day

Then one day he surprised me once more with another sculpture

Except it looked oddly familiar, it couldn’t have been me I thought

Only it was, in fact, me that he had sculpted in the cold, ice block

This was the biggest act of care I’ve seen from him since we met

It was his own way of saying he enjoyed my company as well

A part of me thought about telling him how I felt about all of it

I even began to imagine what life might’ve been like together

Over the next few weeks, I think he began thinking of that too

But it wasn’t in the way that I had hoped he would think of it

While I had hoped to maybe pull him out from the shadows

And showcase his art, vision and beauty to the rest of the world

While he encouraged me to try new things and take chances

He had already committed to the life that was set before him

Having lost so much and been through many things before me

There was content in this quiet life in his house up on the hills

And he knew that this life wouldn’t have been suitable to me

That the world has yet to fully get to know me and my dreams

Raising a family alone up here wouldn’t have been ideal either

All of it, and more, he thought about and realized it for me

Then one day, he told me that I should go and never come back

It hurt so much to hear him say this but a part of me expected it

Knowing the chances for success were slim but still hoping the best

He walked me down from his house back to the gates towards my car

He thanked me for everything and said he would never forget about me

And it was at the gates we shared one slow dance out there in the snow

Afterwards, I hugged and told him that I loved him as he closed his eyes

As if all he ever wanted was to hear someone tell him those three words

It was the first and last time we ever touched, and I still remember it

Many years would go by, and I ended up moving away to a new town

I ended up having the life that I wanted, including you my grandchild

Of course, there have been times that I wanted to reach out to him

To hear his voice and see his new works of art one more time

But I knew I shouldn’t, even if in my heart I wanted to so much

I want him to keep remembering me the way that he has been doing

Even though life had moved on for me, and I had a loving family

I wish I could tell him that I have never forgotten about him

I can see the snow falling outside as you ask me if he is still alive

I’m sure if he’s still alive that he’s somewhere up in his house

Alone, way up on the hill where the Light rises to touch it first

Working away on another of his creations that he so loved doing

Surrounded by his other sculptures including my own ice figure

While I wonder like the others before me, and possibly after me

If he was able find someone to keep him company and be happy

If, after all this time, he ever finally found his one true muse. . .

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