Smell of Sawdust
Don Hynes
Some people seem to know themselves early on,
prepared to find their way through the maze.
I mostly wandered, following until a path ended,
retraced another route, asking questions,
picking up the few clues I was able to find.
I do know where I am now and who has been looking.
There’s comfort in that and some gravity
I shift and employ where there’s reason to help.
I meet the mapmaker from time to time,
enjoying our conversations, very simple and forgiving
about the way his information’s overlooked.
There’s the start and there’s the finish,
the navigation up to you.
Lots of people will sell you directions
but they’re like a subway guide to New York,
interesting but not much help if you choose to walk,
stay above ground where the sky still opens,
faces along the street more and more profound
as you age and understand their predicament.
Bring some kindness to it, the road’s not easy;
give what you can without losing yourself.
The best work is still like a sanded board,
rounded over and smooth to the touch.
You bring your hand and eye to the wood,
feeling your way along the grain,
the smell of sawdust sharp and pleasing.
http://donhynes.com/blog/?p=1417