Sonnet for a craftsman The source of that which we perceive in the material world Is a question that exercises the wisest of minds Nonetheless it seems as our surroundings are steadily unfurled There's a pattern and form that speak of creation divine And so it is in the microcosm of this artisan skill In the mind of the craftsman a new creation takes form Then raw materials are meticulously modelled to his will Thus an instrument, an object of function and beauty was born With unswerving purpose, growing understanding and affinity The mind and hand shaped the substance, the wood and the plate 'Til it took such exquisite colour form and symmetry That those who behold it are moved to higher state Such art is in the realm of sacred cause Therefore, craftsman, it must be that a spark of divinity is yours