Oh twa la di beside the sea she sang
The words just seem to hang
Sounds seem to carry without a single care
As it passed across the air
Could you dare and yet believe
In what we could only
Hope to conceive
Ideas so unreal and yet to feel
No need to scream nor to squeal
Within this body I feel my heart
Beating beside the fires that burn
With its rhythm oh how I yearn
Where other watch from different places
Telling lies with various faces
To linger here among the different races
Taking time to mark the pages
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
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