Petition of a Lesser Tree


Carpenter, can you work with me?  
I know I was never a noble tree;  
Where others have stood to the wind, I bent.  
One of my sides shows the weevils' intent.  
This limb is stunted, that one is split  
From reaching for more than was good for it;  
Knots like mine blunt a carpenter's plane  
And the heart of me harbors a darker grain.    

But I'd like to believe I was good for more  
Than deepening duff on the forest floor,  
For I have some idea of what wood can become  
When hewn to the level and braced to the plumb.  
And I know that a carpenter's eye knows how  
To discover the board in a crooked bough;  
Only his hands and the carpenter know  
Just what the wedge and the mallet can show.    

So if in my length there is one good beam  
That will fit in a master carpenter's scheme,  
Measure my timber, gauge and explore,  
Peel off my blemishes, pare to the core,  
Tool to your tolerance, work till I'm true;  
Then show me the job you have fit me to do.  

And there where you place me, long may I stand,  
Shaped to the will of the carpenter's hand.


Linda Day Morehouse


Benediction at Pruning Time
Oneness of Water
Creed For Latter Magi

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