Bora born
Island of dreams
Paradise not lost,
on this magical island.
Rainforest at my back,
stiff breeze from the left,
the winter sun shining.
Pure white coral beach,
a singer of praise,
for life who would listen.
Healing with sound,
washes all in a haze,
of melody and rhythm.
Each incoming wave,
ends in crystals of sound,
as the broken coral tinkles.
To draw you within,
then reform again,
in a lullaby of peace,
to wash right through you.
- O -
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
on this magical island.
Rainforest at my back,
stiff breeze from the left,
the winter sun shining.
Pure white coral beach,
a singer of praise,
for life who would listen.
Healing with sound,
washes all in a haze,
of melody and rhythm.
Each incoming wave,
ends in crystals of sound,
as the broken coral tinkles.
To draw you within,
then reform again,
in a lullaby of peace,
to wash right through you.
- O -
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
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Island of dreams
Island of dreams
