The Wood Cutter


In the sun kissed golden evening
I saw him incessantly slaying.
He lay there with a resolution
To undo the entire evolution.
Awestruck by his poise and rhythm
I stood there trying to fathom.

He seemed to have a strong spirit
Which didn’t demand any merit.
He often sharpened his chisel
To minimise the possible hassle.
Awestruck by his poise and rhythm
I stood there trying to fathom.

I explored his face for a trace of mercy
But heard his breath ever so pursy
His voice had such a bass,
which could attract any highland lass.
Awestruck by his poise and rhythm
I stood there trying to fathom.

He chiseled the trees with all his might
Like hunting a prey by a worthy knight.
The anguish of the trees
Never reached his ears.
Awestruck by his poise and rhythm
I stood there trying to fathom.

He cut the wood raising his hood
Just to earn his daily food.
The music still I heard
Long after he disappeared.
Awestruck by his poise and rhythm
I stood there trying to fathom.


RAO