The Craftsman

I had to find the craftsman again
Step into his hands once more
Get them worn and familiar
Feel with his touch
See the patterns in his mind’s eyes

Find that comfort once more
Shaping the materials of this world
Touch real things
Think with your fingers
Those wordless patterns that say so much
Of rhythm and form
Perfection and flaw
And no flaw
And no perfection
Except with the Real

I need the craftsman’s stance in the world
That surety of touch
Confident invention and purpose
Standing amid his tools
With ideas swirling
Of wood leather steel and brass
Of meaning and form

Just follow the pattern
Follow the pattern
The rest will take care of itself


Time presses on the craftsman
Don’t dilly dally
Just take your time
Spend it wisely
For you do not know
how much you have

Time pushes him
to will completion
Watching a vision unfold.
He knows it is not his
And yet he sees it
And his hands shape it
To bring it into being
Even though it already existed
From before the beginning of time

He presses it into shape
As it presses him into shape
It has his measure
As he has it’s measure
It’s cuts him down to size
Even as he cuts it to size
It is from him
As he is from it

Ideas take shape from the source form
And come into time
Time pulls them into shape
As it pulls him into shape,
His hands, his arms, his eye
His idea
He is pulled into shape by his idea
And so his idea takes shape

All borrowed attributes…
Might, power and measure,
Sight, will, idea.

La howla wa la quwatta ila billah
High beyond altitude
Vast without measure

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