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I was out walking where Id never been. - I saw a forest up ahead when - I crested a knoll that lie ahead, - wondering briefly where my trail lead.
As I trod on through the high weeds - with plans to find where this old trail leads, - I entered a forest of old growth and new, - while noticing someone had cut down a few.
The further I walked, the more stumps I saw, - yet I was drawn forward as if by some law. - Intrigued, curious, I started to count - as I passed by stumps in increasing amount.
In time, up ahead I saw I was nearing - what was plainly a man-made clearing. - Once I stepped past the edge of the trees, - the sight ahead caused me to freeze.
A log cabin loomed ahead roughly centered - within this huge clearing I had entered. - Log walls were in place, doors and windows proved - it would be livable once it was roofed. - Supports were rigged to hold up the ridge beam. - From that, rafters of smaller trees I had seen - stacked for the purpose as plain as can be; - completion awaited that one proper tree.
I wondered at who was building this place. - In my mind I imagined an old weathered face. - With axe in hand and a determined grin, - this person would soon have a nice home within. - But, at the moment, no sounds were heard, - so I silenced my own unspoken word. - A sanctuary here, hidden away, - awaiting one more main log to lay.
I could find neither saw nor ax - and wondered briefly at these facts. - In clearing a forest to create this space - where even tree stumps had been erased - had surely required tools of some kind. - Yet, not one tool could I find. - Ah, yes, I could see the story it told. - The builder had grown tired and old. - I could imagine that, if this was mine, - Id store my tools and rest for some time.
I wandered a circle while checking all sides - and witnessed details created with pride. - Then, I spotted a log laying cleared of limbs - and I could suddenly picture him; - the maker of all I had seen, - shaping this log as the missing ridge beam.
About center, some carving had been applied. - To read it, I stepped to the opposite side.
Once I read the engraving, I could only stare.
Carved deep in the beam, my own name was there.


By The_Pip2

© 2019 The_Pip2 (All rights reserved)


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