Not sure if this a poem or a meditation.
In the late afternoons baskets of light weave themselves into the branches.
They catch the sun and make it into petals and stars dancing through circles.
I love to watch for these baskets of light. Click them into my camera and hold them in an image.
If only children could climb into them away from the world’s fights.
They could beam their future, their dreams, their innocent light into the hearts of all them that are too attached to land and ideals that separate and antagonise.
Oh for the baskets of light that give the human spirit might. If only they could capture hate and ignorance and burn them away.
The sky cannot be owned. The sun cannot be captured. The light shines on all, through the baskets of light.
(c) June Perkins, words and image.
Ripple Poetry 