Workmen

Please, let your hammer rest gently on me
Be tender with your chisel
As you chip away fragments of my being
Let compassion assist you
Let it guide gently, your hands
Do not be overwhelmed by determination
Do not be overcome by passion
That in it, you may forget that I am human
And become gruesome in your touch

As time gracefully flows by
Its deposit of being, resides on me
Growing me in every passing moment
So I may be carved into the me of tomorrow
It has placed you here to chisel me into shape
That I may be perfected by the company around
And that I may not only feast on the deposits of time
But each added layer may be carved, moulded and transformed
Transformed into a me of becoming

And I look all about me to see many tools aimed at me
You have not been left alone in this endeavour
These hands all working fervently on my being
Chipping, denting, bending and twisting me
Each working a different part of me into being
I stare around, and my eyes fall on all the sorts;
Friends, foes, acquaintances and strangers
All with tools hammering on me
One stayed for a short while; another longer, while others left

Unbeknownst to me, my arms profusely worked
In my euphoria, I had not know this
My palms were hardened from the constant pounding
They were covered in fragments of being
My hands worked freely of its own accord
The realization was weighty on me
As it lifted beyond the horizon of my consciousness my actions became voluntary
For now, these arms worked with a knowing
Ensuring every strike was both tender and precise

Please be gentle with your harmer
Let this knowing guide your heart as you strike me
May understanding guide your chisel
That in your working; in our time together
You will not break anything

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