Tooling I tooled
holding the brush
the pen
the chisel
the scalpel

Waking the ache
Wrestling the mood
I painted
I wrote
I carved too deep

And weeping I bled
Keeping my cup
My canvas
My wheel
My pages

Framing the moment
on a clear wall
My table
My shelf
My own head
now free

Free to remember
and to know
where it all

began