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de Zen Baboon

Heat put to death it's old shape
A ladle couldn't hold it down
It's poured into a strong steel frame
The crackle of the torches gas
Snaps like fire in the wind
Metal turned to lava
Red slow flowing syrup
As the heat increases A mercury rising
Silver in it's purest form Impending solidification
A dull grey mass, rigid and awkward
A hardened chunk of silver
Death to the old shape, life to the new
Ugly in it's rebirth to some
But beauty to the owner and craftier
A buffer has the power to polish and shine
Bring out the glow and luster of this object

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