John Casey

John feels for the grain, nature giving again
Forms start to shape with each stroke of the hand
Blade’s edge scores even deeper
Mind pauses as it opens to more
Allowing the flow from so deep within

For long it had stood piled, waiting in yard
Curing and drying of sap; waiting its time
Yet formed in the wild and growing so free
Cruelly culled, stripped then stolen away
Transported from home like many before

Cutting deeper, where no one has seen
New ideas flow as hands pare the wood
This is more than bough with layers of growth
It is years of ordeal, a life that has been
Intimacy John feels is beyond what is now

Sitting birds, nests of life
Tweets, hoots, howls of wild
Gnawings, scrapings, chewings
Sweethearts bonding
Leaving marks of their love

Water fell through foliage
Drawn up to the light
Others fell, failed or floundered
Own seeds formed and dispersed
Leaves renewed by the season.

Sharing gives up a truth, feeling the years
Grasping what’s been shapes a new style
Eyes closed to his hands John carves from his soul
Wood freely gives all as with reason now found
Touching the past and feeling lost days

Friends all around branching, growing to sky
Leaves touch yet space won and need to fill
But slowly they went, hacked down in their prime
Dragged naked away, cut, sliced into stacks
Not treasured but used, commodity for sale

Now together they search to reach an accord
Fulfilled now wood gives sharing brings bliss
Creating newfound forms, taking, giving as one
A new future endowed John Casey’s new friend
Man’s hands with wood purpose from past life
Feel joy from discovery; discover gifts from the joy


© Ron Dickerson

Image from scottchan/