The carpenters hands ..........
If I am a loner .....or at least if I am at
So let it be .....That's who I am
and that for which I'm
As my hands pass thier time in my trade
a carpenter or so I have
evolved without choosing
My favorite ........is working on homes in the
woods no one around to answer to
but the memories I find I'm
Only the gentle white noise of
nature ........the hermit thrush
I miss nothing of the camaraderie
of fellow worker no jiving
nor small talk
Just my hands busy at work on the
lumber ....the cabin ....
untill at once
And thats allright too ....but untill then
the white noise of nature my symphany
my work and
my end I'm sure...........
Today I was working at a log cabin deep in the fir trees , replacing some post and beam contruction of old. And it caused me to begin thinking of time , of choices and of the small pleasures that life allows me ..........The brewing thunderstorms brought out the birds to warn each other of the incoming storms , the pine bows swaying in time. And for awhile I looked up to the sky , the wind and the sounds and felt as if I belonged...........No ..I felt .....I knew that I belonged.