The caravan stands as a haven for me,
With frosted lines and a hand so fine,
Nature etched her own Cris design,
Music played in stars a sparkling melody,
A broken heart is healed with a butterfly’s wing,
Through such a window the world seems,
More beautiful than any secret dreams,
This gift is what winter nights can bring.
Keeping it simple sends a dragonfly too,
Born from water to conquer the air,
It flies so free even mountains stare,
Or is it a helicopter homing into view?
Rushing to rescue the life of a stranger,
Holding the greatest love humans attain,
In caring for others with no thought of gain,
Putting their lives frequently in danger.
An arrowhead points from darkness to light,
Many stars line the journey to one,
Through time space will continuously run,
And promises day always follows night,
I look through a window and hear a song,
No words can ever speak for a thought,
That sends a search beyond what is sought,
And dreams of where it must belong.
‘CRIS’ is an independent caravan registration and identification scheme that helps to prevent theft and fraud. In this country every caravan since 1992 has a unique CRIS VIN etched on all the windows.