Shadows

THE CRAFTSMAN

78 THE CRAFTSMAN How subtle, yet how profound your métier; Slowly yet steadily you weave your tale, The meaning and moral of which dawns On the eve of the end. With great skill you edge your message, Knitting on our bodies, our visages especially, Your tales of sorts: sadness, pain, anguish, Joy, delight, bliss, as in and out, in and out, in and out Of that unique canvas, the hourly threads merge, shaping This wrinkle here, that curve there, a dent! A shade darker here—stress-quoted, A shade lighter there—relief-tainted, With once upon a time bituminous strands Now sporadically splashed in gray, Else richly scrapped skin-tones. At dusk your nearly finished tale, Your well-polished lines and furrows, Layers and bags of flesh tell, On our visages especially, time’s art: Our frowns, coils of skin, Our smiles wrinkled grooves of Profound joy and wisdom, of subtle tales On pain and pleasure, of times and life on earth. Look at me at this dusk of mixed feelings and see Time’s tale on my body, on my visage, my strands. This journey, so loaded, plods on with lessons For eternity. Praise to the Master for making Examples and profound lessons of us. Now in joy, trepidation, as we tarry Waiting for the supreme subpoena, We sit and reminisce of battles fought, 79 Of losses and victories savoured, And of lessons learnt. Like the elders we have become, We now hold the spear Pointing in the direction posterity must follow, The bridegroom to meet, that all else May be added; the choice is theirs. ...