Art's Call

The manly sculpture
wept.

Crowds gathered 'round

as the gallery owner scurried forth.

For days, weeks, months

the masses thronged the hall.

All gazed at the wonder.

Some took photographs.
Magazines and newspapers raved.

"Profound!  A work of genius!" all exclaimed,

peering closely,
seeking to locate the precise cleft in the rock --
the artist's singularly brilliant stroke --
which had released the flow of "hidden liquid."

One day, a child broke through the crowd

and ran right up to the statue.
"Veronica!" her mother gasped.
"High art!  A masterpiece!" the gallery owner cried.  "Do not touch!"

The child never heard.
With her little finger,

she wiped away the statue's tears.

"You came,"

whispered the statue,

and wept no more.