GloPoWriMo2019 Day Sixteen

Today we consider.

In your hand it smooths quickly.
In your hand it moves smoothly.
In your hand it caresses the wood.
In your hand it would always be gentle.
In your hand it has rhythm.
In your hand it plays its own tune.
In your hand there is a shimmer of sawdust.
In your hand the wood grows warm.
In your hand the plane is plain, but
In your hand it is a thing of wonder.

Perhaps the fools would be best to seek the wisdom
Of the old man with the plane, and
To consider the way in which rough wood
Is planed to become a thing of serenity,
Smoothness and beauty?

(c) 2ndwitch, 16/04/19