Craftsman

Today I wondered what I’d write
So long I thought, of what I might
Cast in the weave of a storyteller’s loom
I searched and searched about my room
I counted bricks and closed my eyes
I listened to the words of God in the wind’s disguise
And yet no inspiration could I find
No thread of thought I could unwind

Then I saw in the corner of the ceiling
A spider’s web that had me feeling
That there within would lay a tale
That the world would one day hail
As a masterpiece of thought and word
Which I am certain must be heard

I snatched that web from where it waited
And took it to the spinning wheel fated
To turn that shimmering silver strand
To the moonlight thread which I command
Into the tapestry on which I inscribe
Secret knowledge for all to imbibe
Hidden away in prose and verse
That shall forever through time traverse

That tapestry of spider’s weave I made
Was emblazoned with ink that would never fade
I marched that marvel to the square
Where all could look upon it if they dare
To gaze upon that perfect art
And feel it grip ahold their heart
But lo!
It was not so!

To me they pointed and shouted
And at once I was routed
I ran from thence a league and mile
My foe pursued me all the while
With my tapestry in hand I fled
Until at last they thought me dead

Far away, in bitter musing
I looked at the spider’s web, now fuming
O’er the work I had placed in thee
This art in which I could no longer see
The virtue and the magnificence
As I felt a glow upon my countenance
For in my soul was built a fire
Burning with an unquenchable ire

In my anguish I shall ne’er forgive
The part of my sanity that slipped through the sieve
I know not what came over me
For not one part of my mind showed clarity
I built a forge with sand and clay
And in the fires my art did lay

After which a darker deed I’ve never done
For there I made an anvil of stone
And with my ire as a hammer
With the laws of nature I did tamper
Using that work of beauty
I forged a sword of utter cruelty

I then returned to where I crafted first my name
And then later wrote my one true shame
For there I found the ages hence
Had quickly gone, and did commence
To weep there in the empty square
Where no one would see or care
Homes were empty and roads were silent
Save for my long lament

I ran again from that place
Away, away I did race
Pursued I was by my own grief
Long and terrible with no relief
I ran until I found the shore
And there I begged, “No more, no more.”

There from the waves did rise,
A sauntering angel in disguise
A siren in such glory clad
I knew I surely had gone mad
Yet gently she did take my hand
And promised all would turn to sand

Then she took from me my sinful blade
And into the water she did wade
She smiled and ducked beneath the sea
There I wondered what was to be
For a year and a day I waited
Until my curiosity was finally sated
When at last she rose again from the ocean
And gave to me a final token

At length she spoke to me
Saying, “I hope to give you clarity
For in this gift is time’s own song
And shall undo all that’s wrong
The power of it is now in your hands
For you have come from distant lands
Carrying the needed pieces
To find the tunnels in time’s creases
A spider’s thread, turned to wonder
That could have torn the world asunder
And wonder turned to the rage of man
A passion with which no man can
Live for long in his heart
So there it was to start
The temperance of rage
With the passing of age by age
Until at last it’s cooled with regret
Thus all the pieces were set
Go to a place where no man has been
And play into it all of your sin
Then shall you receive
The chance to finally leave
This dreadful dream behind,
And purge the evil from your mind.”

So to me she gave the flute
And then into me took root
A hope that I had not felt
Since long ago that blade I smelt
From there I climbed a nearby butte
And played upon that silver flute
At once the ages sped past
In a blur of motion so fast
Until the sea dried
And every living thing died
As the siren had said,
Once everything was dead
The world had turned to sand
So I looked down at my hand

My body had long deserted me
To leave a ghostly effigy
At once I leapt in surprise
And to the sky I did rise
Until I settled upon the sun’s face
Where my ghostly heart began to race
The flames around me roared
And the arcs of fire soared
Out into the vast empty void
So with an idea I toyed
That no living man had spent
Even the briefest moment
On this plain of light
I knew this silver flute just might
Do as the siren had said
To leave behind this dread

Cautiously my flute I played,
And before me I saw arrayed
All the ages of the world
Back on themselves they curled
Until I saw myself seeking inspiration
And I felt a strange sensation
Of being pulled through ages gone
Then I was standing, and looking upon
A spider’s web in my room
Which had yet to see its loom

My pen I took up in hand
And wrote of a world turned to sand
Hoping someone, somewhere
Might answer my prayer
To weave a tale of a spider’s thread
And live the life I dreamt to have led