Night

When dew forces the scents
and they write their names
into the wind
the landscape changes its face.

Darkness swallows all color
and constellations describe
infinity —-
Then I think of journeys
through the forest of my home.

Claudia Terstappen

Tsuru

Little pieces of paper, twisted and turned, becoming birds. Little cranes, one after one are threaded on a string and into line. A perfume of cherry blossom, peace and hope. Coexistence of red, yellow, green, blue, pink, white, lilac, turquoise.
All that we can see.

Crane after crane, necklace after necklace, hundreds, thousands transform this
wall of paper into a sea of birds linking wish after wish. It is said that
they make them come true.
All that we can imagine.

Cranes live for a thousand years, they bring long life, happiness and peace.
All that we desire.

(Tsuru means ‘crane’ in Japanese)

Claudia Terstappen, March 2007