Sounds of Another Time and Plane Explained

Didjideroo, memory of thunder voices long ago, preserved.
When we draw again with eyes and sticks the trace star maps you showed us long ago,
Recalled to know of care, as you take your birds to the sky Home,
Reveal, at last,
Our Humility in preserving a
Moment.

Springtime Dream

So quiet and still, in the dark little work winter room where a small lamp is lit;
In quiet conversation the toil is gentle and prodigious, and gentle grey rain upon the
Sturdy roof softens season's reminders of icy Sleep.

I dreamed a springlit, tulip-brightened burst, there, tonight, my Love,
And closed my eyes to lay among it, nestling quietly amongst the perfumed stems:
I, some great bird with gentle tulip eggs, and we two, laughing,
"Springtime snails", you said, "Leaving a beauteous trail" - a gentle, bulb-burst, loving trail -
Of paint-brushed Art with Living things:

First, all curled and golden; scarlet lip and hearted; deep fuschia at days's end, morphed into violet, too;
And as the gleaming rays dipped tiredly, finally
The deepest royal-hued sky - each one -
Blending with the petal hearts, and dropped in an ordered, neat strewn path,
To tell a story of travelled love, inviting -
Breathless, buoyed, and brilliant we's
To relive us, in other Times and
Mad, Moving, More-Love
Moments,
Remembered.