Costumes are the eyegates to our souls.
What a blessing is our act - to give, Changing faces, perhaps one hundred fold, Or better yet, one heart revived to live In hope and love from whence grew bitter mold. Costumes are the eyegates to their souls. What a blessing is our art to explore So much color we might otherwise miss, From scarlet depths of passions burning door To pearly tears that crave a healing kiss. Costumes are the eyegates to our souls. For in the striving, each gesturing hand Inspires tomorrow's echoing feet.