I’m going to dream,

painted skies,

all heart greens

and forest butterflies.

Through the clear rains,

and soft petals falling,

four Moons illuminating

purple nights calling,

we build a sweet home,

on a hill with a view,

to the ancient future

I dreamt to be true.

In all seven directions,

my home happily breathes,

fragrant flowers bursting,

softly shading leaves.

Forgotten palms living

wild dangling vines,

I laugh with the spirits

in endless spiral time.

Tatau strokes protect,

the heart and cheek,

the wild poets plant

sacred cedar and teak.

At whim with great joy,

whenever I please,

I have time to paint,

and to play in the trees.

I know I am free,

I have time to dream,

I am here now to swim

in the blue birthing stream.

This wild creative spirit,

this boundless Flame of Love,

this beautiful awareness

from below and above.

Words cannot paint,

ink cannot draw,

this soul’s infinite love

that lives forever more.

Akal Pritam Tatau.

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