What I Need Comes by Way of Wood
….from where i sit,
the woods give grace,
in the light of coming day-space,
where off in the distance,
....there walks one who cannot come back….
what is to be the conflict,
of this one shaped as a mis-fit,
dis-in-tangled from the society of structure,
....and walking now by sound of ‘deep calling unto deep’....
Long were the ages of past,
when the ancients of old,
gave forth the tales we are told,
and some gathered these stories of wood….
—-i grew alongside a tree of past,
whose hardwood was the strength of art-full joinery,
and as i feed under the overhang of an evergreen,
i daily was fed pine nuts with bowls of gum sap….
—-i have searched the creaking of branch-full ‘wood art’,
till coming away i knew these ancient trees all by name,
as in their end grain fibers i studied pith,
with the master’s of heartwood and craftsmen of sapwood….
—-i learned to work with hand by holding an ax,
and sent time running on it’s foolish way,
since after all why serve one who never says please,
and only keeps count to squeeze my age….
—-and then came the day when an ancient of old,
looked my way and giving me a nod,
i heard these words that came my way,
“all is yours-take what you will-only use the all you take….”
....keeper of the woodpile….
....slabs of oak, waiting in the hands of cure….
....some more ‘spalted’ maple, maybe some end table tops….
”….what is be-come of my time here, is of what i leave behind at end of day, and so I took a waunder in the woods, and gathered many objects to yet be-come ‘wood art’....”
-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/