The ax of the woodsman
And the plane of the mill
Carried the will of worlds
To shape the bones of an oak
As three vast planks
For an ironbound hatch cover
Sealing a whaler’s deck
From the crash of the sea.
I know nothing of that ship.
But three worn planks
My will has carried
Across decades and worlds
To balance the keys the letters the paper
The working surface
For a frightened skull
Urging its mind to bend.
Remember
In times of darkness
Through wills beyond the sight
Becoming never ends.
Engage this day
For bodies shape and always move the shape
That yet you may become
Something else.
