from this something good

I carve
the worry out of the tree.
slay
the lumber
lay it down
and chisel
away the bark.
to burn it would be
too easy.
to chop it into cords,
to strip
it of leaves and knots,
too simple a task.
instead
I take a knife
and envision beauty
love
and
togetherness
which I form
with my bare hands
and the gift
of nature
that God has provided.
I watch the tree fall
as I hatchet at
the roots, the trunk.
its life falls with a thud.
I go at it all night
into the next day
then lie
down
with what I've made.