The mark of Cain sears the heart;
murder that was no sacrifice satisfies
no god or mother or father,
the exile self-imposed, the curse
shared by every gift created
by Cain’s offspring – the inheritance
of making based upon the act
of turning one thing into another,
a death and resurrection, the essence
of creation. And the scorn of those
who refuse to make something,
deny the gift of curse, the beauty
of what is given to be made,
how things fit beyond the realm
of vision until seen and then
the “Aha” that changes everything,
the burning in the heart.
-Byron Hoot
