The Carpenter

Calloused hands
On rosewood flowers.

Long summer nights, 
And a cricket’s song.

The subtle smell
Of a daytime’s rain
Tranquil they are
Dancing in vain

My cause be for naught
As moonlight abounds.
It mocks me—

Calloused hands
On a birch wood tree

The nectar of a hummingbird
It’s wings aflutter.

The westward winds blow
Soaring everso high
On wings of an eagle.
The world seen through its eye.

I take only what I have given
And ask for no more.
Leaving me in peace forevermore.