We each have our own place to go
With special colors ours to show.
Our days that seem a mystery
Will find their place in history
To change the face of worlds worn,
To imprint love on hearts unborn.
No one's walking silent there.
No one's words are lost in air.
Somehow all the raveled ends
Are used to weave eternal blends.
We may not see; we may not know--
Our tapestry will glow and grow.
Poetry and backgrounds by Dorothy
Original MIDI "Emeraude" by David Folsom copyright 1997