HURRY!the eager childrenare racing towards the lighta quiet explosion, glowing brightcollecting each dying blossom with their hungry handsthe earth, an illuminated carpetfor bare feet to skip and delight,enthusiatstic fingers collect bouquetsmake golden garlandsdecorate hairthis tree has offered of itself, this perfect daysurrendered its treasure, a gifting of lifeso perfect and unanimous, not a single fallen flower is blemishedthey lie so perfect, so fresh, the ground sings forth with lifefor a year the children have played about this treeclimbing its sparse craggy branchesbeneath its unassuming shadewith no hint of the offering that was to unfurla tree can be GODthis apparition, worthy of worshiphas burst forth, into yellow flamesand the children are running at day’s end, eager parishionersschool bags discardedshoes cast asidethis is a baptism between two churchesfeet immersed in such colour, saffronpetals rain down from aboveonto children, dancing and laughing belowevery oneanointed
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