The Builder Poem by Willard Wattles
The Builder
Rating: ★5.0
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Smoothing a cypress beam
With a scarred hand,
I saw a carpenter
In a far land.
Down past the flat roofs
Poured the white sun;
But still he bent his back,
The patient one.
And I paused surprised
In that queer place
To find an old man
With a haunting face.
'Who art thou, carpenter,
Of the bowed head;
And what buildest thou?'
'Heaven,' he said.
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5/7/2025 1:38:55 PM # 1.0.0
