....from out of time i have come,
to gather my-self for an outward expression of mastery,
and what if from the heart of eternal being i am spun,
left even now with this after-taste of scorched cosmic cautery….
—-i was the one set adrift upon golden threads of scarlet inheritance,
just as that branch of the wu t’ung tree gave me a place of rest,
while these mountains that so surround bow in abasiance,
and was i the one to call the wind into this sphere of my quest….
—-why even now the pang of desire to create of wood,
has so inundated my time of aggression with the azibiki saw,
that my hands bear down to part the fibrous grains of good,
where in this place of what i am is the freeing of open yaw….
....now is my passing of this experience from where i have been,
and ‘just is’ was a place that an-other had so carved out for my past,
as such all-so this work that be-speaks my weathering spalted membrane,
is but my fenghuang wing-spread taste of artistic contrast….
Artistic Contrast; as up against wood….
-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/