hurry
the eager children
are racing towards the light
a quiet explosion, glowing bright
collecting each dying blossom with their hungry hands
the earth, an illuminated carpet
for bare feet to skip and delight,
enthusiatstic fingers collect bouquets
make golden mountains
decorate hair
this tree has offered of itself, this perfect day
surrendered its treasure, a gifting of life
so perfect and unanimous, not a single fallen flower is blemished
they lie so perfect, so fresh, the ground sings forth with life
for a year the children have played about this tree
climbing its sparse craggy branches
beneath its unassuming shade
with no hint of the offering that was to unfurl
a tree can be GOD
this apparition is worthy of worship
has burst forth, into yellow flames
and the children are running at day’s end, eager parishioners
school bags discarded
shoes cast aside
this is a golden baptism, in the place between two churches
feet immersed in such colour, saffron
petals rain down from above
onto children, dancing and laughing below
every one,
anointed
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