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Post by wren on Jan 22, 2007 1:03:43 GMT -5
Through the years, the generations A love of working with our hands Of forming a bond with that living spirit Creating something from a gift of wood Seeing more in the knots and spirals Than others see
My father’s tools, his father’s tools, passed to me Their love, their talent, their gifts, their passion All there in the tools and inside of me Feeling the hands of the fathers guiding mine Showing me how to alter the beauty Revealing treasure
The patterns in the wood are like the spirals within us The knots, our imperfections made beautiful Time and tests smooth our surface Pain and sorrow carve us to make room for joy Twists and turns come from bending with the wind
Each layer sanded away, bestows a gift below Each tool used to cut and carve, ties me to them Each pass to smooth and hone Changes me with the wood Each new creation at day’s end Finds within me a new grain as well
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Post by Der Trommler on Jan 24, 2007 10:14:59 GMT -5
Such poise.....very cool!
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Post by wren on Jan 24, 2007 10:35:19 GMT -5
Thanks!
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