My work has a life, Sometimes hidden behind, A line and threaded into, A colour that resonates, In a distant oasis, Not perceived but felt, In a moment of great necessity.
When people get tired of too much living, And wish for a place, Where the spirit opens boundaries of time, A reprieve from themselves, if only for an instant, My work will be their haven. Or, if the journeying of their dreamtime needs, To break the surface and enter playtime, My work will be their wonderment dance.