The law of emptiness takes form
Choosing a sight beset by storms
A town abandoned by its youth
Decaying resentment for any truth
I walk recounting every deed
Tracing my steps beyond the trees
A child hiding underground
Trying to talk, but lacking sound
His presence pulling at my chords
Anger within as I relate the law
The silent child turns to walk
As lights flicker out, beneath the rock
Waking to water at my knees
Sadness to see my town besieged
All life is taken by this storm
The law of the lonely has taken form
Stricken by pain beyond my time
Holding the laws to calm my mind
Recounting how this could have been
The closer I look, the more I scream
The law of blame now taking form
Finding the cause of this deadly storm
The quiet child takes my hand
A breath of water for this dying man
Smote the ‘lump’ upon the ‘drive’
The ancient oak did groan,
Smote it down a second time –
And not a stave did moan.
Riven hard and driven tight
The chime hoop bore the load,
Its rivets creaked; an iron child -
Born of Hells hot forge.
The ‘Barrels’ calloused hand aloft,
Like child with candy cane,
And four pound lump of hammer head
Was driven hard again.
Sparks flew from the molten band,
Searing smelt the wood;
Could Thor have walked this Earth again,
As ‘Barrel’, here he stood.
Heady as the Hoppy brew
The smell upon the place,
And fires of oak and charcoal
Toasted red on every face.
Riven stave stacked high on high
And wood shave underfoot;
With flashing Adze and Draw Knife
Each plank and side was cut.
Another crushing, driving blow
Then mighty lump was stilled,
And cask was set and cask was stacked;
Another to be filled.
What journey now before it lay?
Once filled with mans great prides!
To travel beyond creators dreams
Of rich man’s lands, and lives.
Again did raise the calloused hand,
The lump did blot the eye,
Danced high the spark upon the hoop
Then it, like dreams, did die.
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