Each Basket Has Its Own Meaning

I also wanted to share this poem I wrote while working with Corinne Pearce (who I just adore)

a Pomo basket weaver.

Baskets are symbols of that moment in time when we

Weave what is present in our lives as body/mind/spirit,

Spirit doors reveal an opening in a fabricated aura;

There are no mistakes.

This morning in my meditation

I felt all that is connected with

                               my spirit window in my basket:

              All the people who are my spirit family,

              All my own kin, my tribal ancestors

                                 that are there for my healing

              All the activities that feed my spirit,

              All the nature spirits that know me,

              All coming through my spirit window.

Revealing the fragility of my nature

             Nurtured by lightness of being.

I wove a basket as Mother weaves the morning

My basket sits in the corner filled with petals of roses

That came from the rose bushes planted and tended this year

In that corner is also a watercolor I painted of my spirit plant.

Nearby is a picture of Saraswati, Goddess of Wisdom.

I bow before what wants to be honored.