January 1979 · Vol. 8 No. 1 · p. 16
Transfiguration
Feet thundering closer,
Shiny blades appear
Eyes keenly scanning
Stop!
“Not me, please!”
Axes cracking my frail trunk
Dragged across a forest floor
Me?
Hauled, hacked, hammered,
Sawed, severed, sanded, splintered
A plow, a cart, a child’s toy?
Plan
Saws rest, hammers sigh,
Examined . . .
“What am I?”
Silence
Massive hands clutch,
Strong arms envelope me
Carried from shop to where?
Searching
Cattle and oxen,
Stalls, broken boards, matted straw . . .
Weathered and wasted . . .
Alone
Fresh hay scattered in me,
A blanket to cushion
Breathing, soft noises, squirming
Life?
Songs, praises,
Cradling a child of hope
Eyes peering, warm smiles, glow
Hush