Nimble fingers,
focused eyes,
she fashions cedar
into the shape
of a beautiful
bloom.
Her grandmother looks on
with kind, smiling eyes,
as she learns the art
of her ancestry,
carefully weaving
strands of bark
gathered prayerfully
from Grandfather Cedar.
She, herself,
child of dreams,
is a beautiful
cedar rose.
Aww, this is an awesome write. Happy Wednesday Sherry
ReplyDeleteMuch💖love
And she is a beauty indeed. Good day to you Sherry!
ReplyDeleteWow Sherry, how symbolic is your poem. Love it!
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful to pen an ode to the child, the art, the sweet learning relationship and the rose!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful custom and child.
ReplyDeleteSherry,
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful poem and subject too..your poem telling the history of the cedar rose is so interesting . The respect shown for all things of nature by the First Nation People, is a trait the rest of the world could follow.
Beautiful accompanying image:)
That is beautifully crafted.. and am so glad those trees are protected!
ReplyDeleteHow lovely-your poem and this tradition.
ReplyDeleteOver the summer,I found a woman selling small cedar roses. I had forgotten I had them until I read your poem.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful poem to read this evening, my friend.
This is beautiful on so many levels. Not just the art. But the passing along of the art from generation to generation. Tradition is so huge. And to think that she will carry that on forward to her own one day. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem and the tradition.. Fabulous way to protect the trees. I was not aware of this tradition... lovely poem, Sherry!
ReplyDeleteCedar Rose! Wow! So lovely to learn something new from you, Sherry. May all survive and beautify this planet of ours eternally.
ReplyDeleteThis made me smile, Sherry. Really beautiful.
ReplyDeleteLets us hope that she and her children's children can be doing that in years to come. Sadly greenbacks and trash are the leaders these days.
ReplyDeleteso touching and beautiful Sherry
ReplyDelete