Dedicated to my friend M.
Like Father, like son
he’s up before dawn,
Saw dust dances
& glitters like gold
in the early morning sun,
Tired old hands carving
moving – ever – so – slowly
along those curves,
He sands grooves silk smooth
with an almost loving caress,
His wise owl eyes observe and
assess
taking in every inch as though its own mile,
He tilts his head and rubs his stubble //
and he leans back and laughs awhile.
He sees a diamond in the rough
where others saw rubble,
He’s not unaware of what falling has taught him,
He sees these scraps of wood are
not unlike his own scars,
He crouches at rock bottom //
He knows where to start
because the wise way
to build is up…
So with the wisdom of Joseph;
and the strength of old Judah-
The carpenter lays
the foundation for
what will one day
become // his own hallelujah.
This is a very wise poem… how the craftsman can find something larger in what he builds with such care… it’s like the mason who sees the cathedral in the first brick he lays.
Thank-you Björn. Yes, just like that. There are many layers to this poem but the literal visualization is powerful for me even without the spiritual and emotional layers to this.