Strip me bare and polish me

Smooth-grained

Stained

Warm wood under your fingers

Twisted from a wild living thing

Fate selected

To fall and be carried in sections,

Mauled by screaming saw-blade

Laid out in the heat to cure

In quiet darkness, kept forever

Ministered by you in silence

Warm daylight of your shed

Shavings curl to the wood-dust floor,

Soundless

Your hands deft on the plane

Eyes soft, lips parted

Working me

Seeing my curves before they appear

From the edge of possibilities

Satisfied before you began

To let me take shape according to

My knots and your fluid design

Each adjusting in turn,

Bonded by the interplay

Movement, stillness