Art Of Making Baskets

Art Of Making Baskets
© Surazeus
2018 06 14

The old woman with long ragged gray hair
and eyes green as hills after thunder storm
leans close to me and touches my forehead,
and I see lightning flashing in her eyes.

"Welcome, daughter of my daughter to cottage
where I grow herbs and prepare vital potions.
I learned the art of brewing magic potions
with herbs and flowers I gather from lush meadows
from the oldest woman in the whole world.
Now I will pass her knowledge down to you."

I follow her to lush meadow of flowers
where she stops and opens her wrinkled hands,
revealing small shapes like sand grains or rocks.

"These are the seeds I cull from meadow plants
when harvest moon shimmers orange through mist.
When gray clouds glitter gold light at sunrise
we walk meadows along bright river shore
and gather seeds from every plant we find
to fill our baskets with fruit of the Earth.
Then we shall plant these seeds in our large garden
so we can manage every herb we need
for brewing nutritious potions all year.
Take this basket and gather seeds with me."

After we walk for hours in dew-wet meadow,
I pout and show her eyes my empty basket.
"I fill my basket with seeds I can find,
but each seed I gather falls between strands.
I need something to contain tiny seeds,
because I have to bunch my leather skirt
so I can bring gathered seeds back to you."

Gasping at sudden vision of solution,
I grab her hand and hurry to small cottage
where I place my basket on the oak table.
Pressing blade of sharp rock on leather skin,
I cut round sheet and place it in my basket,
then sew its edges to the basket rim.

Giggling with delight at clever solution,
the old woman hugs me to her ample breast,
then leads me skipping to the river meadow
where we wander among flowers and herbs,
collecting seeds to plant in our large garden.

Returning to our cottage by cave fountain,
we sort seed types and store them in grass baskets,
then boil water in cauldrons at stone hearth
to brew potions we store in large clay jars
while consulting recipes on wood tablets
in runes carved by grandmother of her grandmother.

While snow falls whispering white on the dead world,
I sit by glowing hearth and weave more baskets,
then sew round leather lining in each one,
so when the world blooms back to life in Spring
we take them to the market by the castle
where we sell every one for silver coins.

With money I earn from leather-lined baskets
we pay men to build new cottage from large stones
with four large hearths where we can brew sweet potions,
rows of new oak tables where we can work,
and large strong shelves where we store herbs and seeds.

Gazing at twelve young girls with eager eyes,
I smile and bind my long gray hair with new wreath
woven from eglantine and laurel leaves.

"Welcome to my new school of medicine.
I learned the art of brewing magic potions
with herbs and flowers I gather from lush meadows
from the oldest woman in the whole world.
Now I will pass her knowledge down to you,
wisdom about the properties of plants
that women have learned by exploring nature
and passed down to their daughters and granddaughters
for many generations of reborn souls.
We gather plants and seeds from river meadows,
preserving them in our leather-lined baskets,
tend the large garden where we cultivate
herbs and flowers that bloom from fertile soil,
then brew potions from recipes on tablets.
So listen close to every word I say
and you will learn the wisdom of our mothers."

In the large stone cottage I smile with joy
while teaching eager students with bright eyes
art of making baskets and brewing potions.