Boat Builder's Chant

Which wood? I use cedar,
Each plank planed by hand.
My chiseled osprey eyes
Follow the flowing grains,
Hunting prey.
My arms are steady,
My wrists, tense attention.
I sing, I shave with rhythm.
My best blades know
The surging soul of the boat,
Whose clear curves come from
This steamed, yellow moon.
I’ve seen moonboats alter tides,
Felt my blood change
Like the swelling grain.