A shell full of flesh...

A shell full of flesh, ripe and hard,
takes every day a wishful guard,
thinks of its purpose all the day,
feels like a chaff in a pile of hay.

thought so far and hit the deck,
then deep into chasm; found no clue,
quizzed by a thought all with a heck,
repents all the time, I am, who ?

thus begun the creation, a science or art.

a pen was held firm in the hand,
wrote few lines that marked a start,
a hymn was forged deep in the sand,
thus begun the creation, a science or art.

a bird that tweets the hymns of life,
to the tune of maestro at the work,
As a creek that not stops to a whiff,
the tone of the song, floats like a cork.

a stage was set in the deep yellow sky,
played were the songs a la concerto,
on the grooves of rays stringed to the sky,
set high in the sky, by an Angelo