"Etchings That Come From Wood" --by RusticWoodArt

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Blog entry by frank posted 08-30-2007 12:56 PM 885 reads 0 times favorited 2 comments Add to Favorites Watch

Etchings That Come From Wood

....and so twas at the closure of an-other day,
while out walking my feet in forests of green,
that the clomp-clomp mistaken plop-plop of rattled brain fraze,
was awakened by the desire before my eyes of one such as you….

—-where i was coming from was of no-consequence before your ire,
and that you had called to lead me here was now understood,
since your trunk of structure gave me soundings of the rage,
that was gathered inside your wood of steely eyed grains….

—-and if i was as fallen from the heavens above,
there would surely be no-better place to lay my head,
then at the feet of wood from the likes of your kind,
till the ages rolled on past as i slept the sleep of coming dreams….

—-split the wind with a needle of evergreen pine,
and watch the curling wisps of vortexed passion begin,
all the while knowing the beauty of standing in this place of ‘live edge’,
where the tell-tale signs speak of all that shall yet be….

—-men walk these woods to grasp at the chronicle’s of old,
all the while scribing the writing of stories that shall be read by others,
etched in stone is a tale told from beyond the grave,
just as i now write of etchings that come from wood….

—-these words i write are but the musings from inside my head,
tempered and aged much as the blood that screeches within these veins,
and i know that you are feeding on the activity of persuaded silence,
where my presence is become the backdrop for your achieving resplendence….

—-and so you await the one who comes this way,
carrying the weight of the many worlds upon his shoulders,
many worlds have passed us by till many more gather speed,
and what difference does this all make when i stand in line before the universe….

—-ah yes i was once one of those who had a short memory,
and even shorter was my grasp on grazing grace,
that was then and this is longer now in these places of deep woods,
where ones such as you took me in under your shadow while playing healing words….

—-and yes i know the sacred other’s said my disease was un-curable,
and if i lived well it would be by the skin of my teeth,
but you said there was more then meets the eye of academic seers,
so the years have rolled as ages are slung out in the numbers of the dice….

—-i pass this way often now in the changing of the seasons,
and give thanks for the words that are still issued from your being,
just as i still find a fire that burns within the spirit of the wood,
which so complements the rustling of the branches that surround me here….

—-these stories we have so participated in as becomes our oneness,
where other’s have walked on past and never un-derstood what was herein,
some are those who walk without the seeing of a listening ear,
far from the city crowd and never hearing the deafing sound of silence….

—-i also was one of those the day madness sought to impress,
and coming here your age-full wisdom started me to prospecting wood,
working wood was not a new thing to my way of reasoning,
but hearing the wood give me feedback was a new form of character….

—-rending the wind is the behemoth malfunction of a wayward soul,
and such i was till you taught me how to bend as a given reed,
so now i practice the art of bending in preference to what is around,
and if the words i have are just for ego-self then so i let them pass….

—-ego-self was a hard lesson to learn coming from a tree,
why you never went any-where beyond these horizons of a forest,
and then to cast your seed into the wind of a shapen mistress,
plucked out-you-gave out is the story of seeded trees in forest of ether….

....i am older now and so together we weather out here,
telling tales of waunderings at the deep end of wood,
where the tales we tell are but the stories of what shall yet be,
and every good piece of art-full wood knows that daybreak is a reason to shout….

Thank you.

” learning of the oneness of silence, was found within these temples of forest beings, where much that is given favor on the outside of here, amounts to no-thing when played against the ‘wood art’ found herein….”

-- --frank, NH,

2 comments so far

View RobS's profile


1334 posts in 4272 days

#1 posted 08-30-2007 11:47 PM

Thanks Frank. That piece seems to be shooting quite a bit.

-- Rob (A) Waxahachie,TX

View RobS's profile


1334 posts in 4272 days

#2 posted 08-31-2007 05:33 AM

shooting? I meant shouting…I suppose it could be both..

-- Rob (A) Waxahachie,TX

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