Mural and poem by Dr Abe V Rotor
The walls I painted hills and valleys and forests,
towering to the roof I painted blue, clouds rising,
birds flying in flock to meet the rising sun, as fresh
as the morning air, chirping sweet songs, circling;
And below a dozen pako fish wake in the golden
reflection of morning, eager for food and company;
I wonder if ever they feel the confines of a den,
for I have faithfully copied Rousseau's scenery.
Dream no more I said to myself, of Paradise Regained -
It is here, in the very core of being next to the heart
and soul, this Phrygian landscape with touch of vane,
the essence of contrition and amendment for my part.
For nothing is unforgivable, that Sin inherited by us
from our ancestors - we're doomed, deprived of heaven
on earth. No! the gifts the Creator have been passed
onward, and here I created a piece of that lost Eden.
Here I see God across the wall, and above my head,
His harmonious creation over land, across the sea,
I am part of the cycle of life everyday, even in bed,
as seasons come and go, here I feel always free.
When lakes and rivers dry, and the sky no longer blue;
as cities grow, land fills with waste, air no longer fresh;
I pick my brush and some colors, say a prayer or two,
and invite my Creator to come and have some rest." ~