The wood work

How beautiful can God make that molding?
and thread the waves in the grain
a beautiful sacrifice of sweet smelling wood
with an axe you've met an end
with me, begun again


if you'll let me, I'd plane my hands over you
over every space
I'd memorized the knots and shimmering lines
the turning streams of texture
follow them with my fingers.

i'm watching the woodwork
I hope you come out
What can I do
What can i do
please come out