The vital line is drawn human hands
When all the force of art is gathered in
The heart , the arm the fingers with the brush
Create a mark and then we can begin.
The other self will help us if we ask
We fear to lose control, we hesitate.
With our courage ink and paint will flow
Through our being truth and love relate.
Creating symbols new is very hard
We risk our vision, fear that we will fail
With wary hands, we tremble to begin
The still small voice, the the centre of the gale
Ecstatic moments, flood our souls with grace
In that littlle crack we find god’s face
How my heart sings 