Poem: Hand Hewn

Hand Hewn

The tools are simple, from another age,
often cast in fire and hardened in cold water.
Hand tools, needing little more than a strong arm
and the willingness to work carefully.

It takes time, working with these old tools,
but there is a difference in the work.
It is as if you can see the time spent,
the connection between time and result,

rarely perfect.
But magical.
Furniture of the soul.

About this poem

About craftmanship. About the work of the soul.

The picture was taken in Williamsburg, Virginia.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s