Thursday, January 29, 2015

Pioneeer Carpenter...

Cat tracks
     in the snow,
     steady across the fence line,
     past the old tool shed
     with rusty scythes still hanging
     and saws shining red
     as the door slowly creaks open
     and the first Light in years
     land upon a wooden tool box,
     full of moss covered
     implements of fine construction;
     an artisan's tools, no doubt,
     a grace, refinement about them
     and I almost shout as I smile,
     a slow tear forms;
     I am transformed,
     in buckskin back again I go
     and turn towards the door
     the wind had blown open;
     go without Thought, without Fear,
     without any sense of the Real,
     for these are the Moments
     I steal from the Infinite...
Time does stand still,

     a Lifetime stands before me;
     chairs in different stages
     of completion hang
     from above and line the walls;
     dizzy, dazed I stumble,
     to the closest chair I humbly sit,
     solid as a rock,
     I am consoled...
             Jan. 27, 2015



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