“The Summer Wood”

Back in that day when father died,
I chose a school where I'd reside
For years, now decades, of my life –
Not ACC – BU seemed right.

For it was not to prep for task,
But more to questing-queries ask –
The giver-aspect twisted, bent –
That's part which guided path I went –

Full bore into a six-course feast,
Cut to back to five, then four – at least
That got me into ticket-two
With BGS from old BU.

“A structured series”, outside-in,
The test had said – you could begin
With Master's level – practical
Much more than theoretical.

Attendant, then advising roles,
Filled out the slate – freelancing goals
Did not work out, nor people-tasks,
Which drained me by the end – and fast!

So, “writing”, “theory”, better is,
“Tool-making” – poetry on biz
And economics twisted 'round –
Swords into plowshares – there I found –

Things operated smooth – and then
Those illnesses – again, again –
Which interrupted flow of life –
Then shift to culture of my wife.

But curious I am at base
For practical solutions – haste
Is order of the day, so waste
Is cut to minimum – each case –

Presents a motivating thrust
Which drives me onward 'till I touch
The silver cup of victory –
Some insight gained, some piece I see.

It's been that way since just a kid –
Cigar-box red with plastic lid
Was all I felt the need for when
We packed for camp – so I could bend –

My mind to task – my quest pursue –
Invention made which seemed so cool
To me – a thirst to understand
To make some tool – thus lend a hand.

So tools and processes were key
To ease the workloads laid on me
Or others roundabout – my way
To do my part that holiday.

I'd use the stuff some others made;
I so love tools – like picture made
Of shop at farm, was Carol's dad's –
Not too much to him (to me quite sad).

But he was into cattle more;
To me tool-making was no bore,
But rather pumped me up in ways
Hard to describe – throughout my days.

Is that not part of culture there?
For which at least that part I cared
But it's been more than just that part –
Off-farm's the place which people start.

The world of thought – “cerebral type”
She called me, and in part, was right;
But called me out to funeral do,
For Spirit's more than just a tool.

My Spirit-life is what's at stake;
A calling I'd best not for sake;
For all the tools and processes
Are subject to such excesses –

Apart, or outside what is best
When life throws up some complex test
To be resolved for us to win –
“Plan B's” the place where that begins.

So, puzzle, problem, query, quest,
Conundrum – parts, which I like best;
Especially when they set folks free
To enter life, and Spirit see.

“No Spirit”, and one's life is doomed –
Once folks connect, there's much more room
To be the selves God had in mind,
And find fresh ways of being kind.

Thanks Holy Spirit for this.

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