Rhythmic strokes in random hues,
lovingly stroked on mediums many,
speaking out loud for those,
who love to see and listen.
Ori
Struggles of life in abstract,
desires flowing out as colours,
silent beauties of still life,
mysteries of human soul as portraits.
Pen and paper not always needed,
to savor the joy of creation.
Materials many and waste none,
for art knows no narrow boudaries.
Cotton clouds woven into royal robes,
Silky fabrics sculpted to perfection,
Swirling clay forming shapes many,
Hard rocks born again as dainty sculptures.
Eternal language, silent but strong,
binding souls with mother nature.
Power of creation bestowed on her,
gifted to one and all born in her womb.
