Saturday, June 20, 2015

Keep sharp the axe

Keep sharp the axe

It's not like felling a tree,
I've gathered,

an accumulation of blows
the more disciplined

and precisely delivered,
the sooner the accomplished task.

I am not the wielder of the axe,
for example; I'm more like the tree

or both or neither somehow
and when it finally comes down,

I won't be there to mark it.
Yet, it must be attended to,

it bars the way or perhaps
the topmost branches

hold the key to my awakening,
the elusive revelation 

and relationship,
the axe blows merely

knocks upon my door,
my best friend wishing me

in the bright green sunlight
to come outside and play.

O child of God, the purpose of conjecture
is to keep sharp the axe.

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