Born unborn, oblivious and calm
Open to the big outdoors
A happy light, unaware, unknown, clean as slate washed clean
Don’t shadow it, don’t colour it
Even if you fear for it

The world is perfect, always have been
Its faith that seems to be wavering
Cutting, and measuring, pondering and planning
It doesn’t need all this tailoring

All will be well, there is no other way
And if there is a better one…tis on its way