Be it craftsman or musical conductor,
each carries a melody in their heart,

while one gazes ‘round the forest
with artisan eyes to spy just the right limb,

the other stands upon a grandiose stage,
swishes his baton up and over,

and the flautist begins the symphony,
while back and forth the carving blade,

slits then cuts the branch to size,
as precise movements of the baton,
bring the melodic masterpiece alive,

now the cello,
now the ax,
now the violins,
now the saw blade,

the conductor leads the musical score,
the furniture maker knows the tool to use,

the conductor,
the craftsman,

composing, creating,
as an invisible source,

unheard, unseen by the rest of us,
guides them to create and conduct

is good thing,
or else we’d all sit around,

in awesome birch branch chairs,
swooning to Mozart ‘til the end of time.