The carpenter sits
at a workbench
before
hammer
chisel
and plank
Slowly,
deliberately,
carefully carves,
skillfully shapes
Each line,
grotesque knot,
of original form
The artist
a splotch of moss
hues of gray
the delicate green
of each leaf
The gardener
plants the lie
among the truth
The philosopher
beholds,
declares:
before me stands a tree
the truth is real
undeniable
simply open your eyes
and you will not be
deceived