Habitat (day 2692)

I hope that I have not become
A garden of your worry
As lost have I found myself
To most of what was once
Have left the tool for another spade
A new life on the rise
Here I toil, finding myself
Dotted with more depth, more dirt
More truth to become with you
A fruit that groans
As seasons play upon our habitat

For They Would Rust (day 2664)

If your answers solved
What mystery remains between lives,
Where would our trial be held?
Where would we lay down our tools
Dear for this unquenched need
To work until our knees are sore
And our feet curl up at the seams
Of our understanding, our dreams,
For they would rust
Lost in a gaze of submission
Caught by the hand that pierces all hearts.
I would be lost
For I compete with a memory
Complete and detail oriented.
I ask not for your question,
I speak not for your silence
I read not for your passage
I hold not for your gift
I growl for your soul
That bites off what it believes it can chew
I snarl for your essence
That rips apart belief structure
And I cry at the foot of all you have become
For I know not how to unbecome
What I had never waited to be.

Day of Work (day 2641)

My best advice has come to this:
Work a day hard daily,
And when it’s time
Lay thy tools
Down for warmth of a tea.
Enjoy thy work,
Enjoy thy toil,
Enjoy each sliver come your way,
Enjoy as troubles
Make their mark
Upon your furrowed brow.
For in pursuit
Of solving mysteries
A day of work’s been done.

Shouting Galaxies (day 2612)

Running through a Galaxy
I thought I had left behind
I passed into a memory;
Two trees I had once climbed
With two turtles that each had a name
Who moved at a very slow pace
Two raspberry bushes that bloomed succulent
Sweet touch upon my tongue
Two small sheds that worked singular
One for gardening one for tools
Two stairs that led to a deck
Painted of a calm and subtle brown
Where two doors swung open
Greeting each and every guest
With two arms and a little more
Clambering all about the floor.
Here it was where I heard
A sound ahead of me
And to my dismay I had been away
Dreaming of a place I no longer stayed
Instead I sat, mid transition
From one Galaxy to another
And all about were angry faces
That each began to shout.

Pocket Knife (day 2272)

A handy man should always have
A pocket knife by his side
No better friend in times of need
Could come to be at the ready
Rope was made for just the tool
So was whittling by the fire
And opening each bag of tools
Was fit just for that knife’s service.
Eager was the folding knife
Tucked away discreetly in thy pocket
So, then, was the fixed blade
Attached at a leather belt secure
To become of such valiant service.
For each man holds on to their tools
In which way feels right to them,
So no man shall defame a man
Who holds a knife at the ready
A handyman recognizes a good man
Who keeps a pocket knife ready for service.
But just as important for the handyman
A sharp blade makes one smile
A stone that keeps a blade able
For any task that rests at hand
No handyman should relax as if
Their blade be forever sharp
It is forever right that a handyman keep
Beside every dressing table to thy name
A handyman should keep right there
A handyman’s sharpening stone.

Campfire (day 2257)

Campfire is my tool tonight
Warmth from evenings bite
Fuel for cooking suppers worth
And entertainment to watch
Flames licking exposed wood
Yet untouched by char
Coals shifting, popping
Gathering underneath
The hottest part,
Eager to grow ever closer
To other matching embers
And edging me evermore
To fuel my campfire tonight.