Braided Breath, Bonded Heart

You weren’t born a basket

but the weaving of you began long ago,

before a thought ever conceived you.

Plaited, wefted, crossed

again through the stars

time and again.

Spider, fly

touching points of light and

threading into the dark

Dipped into the

bubbling brook to

be given the Word

Threaded through

the eye to see

all the universe watching



Into your bounty,

beauty and

basket that holds the heart of God.



© 2020 by Ingrid Oliphant