The Deeper You Are Carved

The carpenter spotted a well-aged block;

He'd been looking for wood, since out of stock.

Having much experience, and a knack for carving,

He asked for the piece and paid a few farthing.

To his shop he then went, excited to see

A transformation of art from first a tree.

Without further adieu, he went to work,

Carving a large groove, with a wondrous smirk.

He continued on, till it would seem,

The dark-grained block had a cratered theme.

With each cut and whittle to his desire,

He imagined, for a moment, a cry so dire.

"Oh please Mr. carpenter, don't dig anymore.

I was happy as the tree I was before.

Then someone came and chopped me down,

Now you continue this hate," he cried with a frown.

The carpenter listened and hoped for some trust,

As he sanded him down, and blew off the dust.

Then took him some lacquer, and lathered it on

Till the wood's grainy texture had truly gone.

Then took he the bowl, all finished and clean,

And a smatter of fruit he'd been inclined to glean,

Combining the two, he proved it the vessel

It was destined to be, through its periodical wrestle.

Said he, to the bowl, in an audible tone:

"You've not been smitten down, but have truly grown!

I give unto you, a theory old:

The deeper you are carved, the more you hold."

-Cale Kenneth Montoya (10-26-22)