traveling tinker

It's early Friday morning,
and we sit quiet at breakfast together,
when from far down the street we hear his cry.

The cry is distinctive, definitely not a sweet corn vendor,
nor another collector of recyclables.
Mark recognizes it first.
It's the cry of the traveling tinker;

the man with the portable,
pedaled whetstone slung over his shoulder,
crying out his trade.

Though we don't understand his words,
I can imagine how it must go...

'sharp as new! sharp blades for old;
sharp knives today!'

I watch his hands as the sparks fly,
sure and steady,


and then his face,
calm, full of dignity in his occupation.

The tools of his trade are few and simple;

and we aren't the only ones enthralled by his skill.
A gentleman walking by stopped to watch, too.



He deftly checks the blade.
Sharp.
Then accepts his payment with a nod,
asking only about 75 cents for 3 sharp blades.

He turns on his way down the road,
whetstone slung over his shoulder
calling out loud and clear...

'sharp as new! sharp blades for old;
sharp knives today!'

If the iron is blunt,
and one does not sharpen the edge,
he must use more strength,
but wisdom helps one to succeed.
Ecclesiastes 10:10