Whispering Wood

Birds on my mind,
pine in my hand
Now to make it happen,
I have a plan.

This bird will be looking,
hunting, peckin!
With gouge in hand,
 I'll start in a second.

Wood whispering in a soft voice,
"Careful my friend."
 "Watch the grain,
The wood will not bend."

A chisel will help now.
The rasp will shape too.
The knife for the details,
 My hand must be true.

 Wood speaking in low whispers, 
a new bird?
Do I hear a peep?
 Can't be, that's absurd!

 Sanding, stroking,
Final touches I must give.
The bird is standing, almost walking
 Has a new life to live.

The sanded wood;
need that final touch.
A little paint,
not too much.

I've created a life anew.
The wood whispers,
Thank you