Basket Tells

Making a Basket

I want to touch the earth
Through the vines of the steadfast trunk
That stretched tall till the tips of its pine
Are yawling with the sun
Showering in the rain
And tickling the wind

I mimic the magnificent Red Pine Tree
By standing high
And reaching my arms
Into the sky
And fluttering the tips of my fingers
To catch the giggly pines
That’s floating down
Onto the bouncy ground

Bashfully my fingers followed falling friends
Gathering together
To weave the tales
Of both joy and sorrow
From yesterday to tomorrow

We sit into collected calmness
To tied the knots
And loop the thoughts
To weave a basket that holds
All the stories from the young to the old