High up over nearby Bantry Bay
Nails are hammered into wood
On the town library roof above us:
Maybe staccato accompaniment
To enliven poetry reading tones.
As every nail went home to stay
Like words and lines and stops
I could'nt but imagine it was Him
From Nazereth-a carpenter's Son.
Son of the Carpenter fix me too
And make my heart your home:
Tap tap the nails we never feel-
Your damaged goods in transit;
Tap, tap tap and hammer home,
Let hand and eye align each line,
Then finish off what was begun
The day you created me in time.
Make and shape me as you wish,
Perfect, direct and aim me straight,
Feed me with your spiritual food
To take me to your home away.
And when it is your chosen day
Get me there by my arrival date;
Shape me sing me write me down-
Great poet and carpenter’s Son.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem