My child, the youngest of my petals,
your scent rising above the fences,
the sound bouncing off shiny metals,
When will you come to your senses?
You say, you’ve found your way,
pacing to and fro come what may,
our light shines forth
but not as bright as it ought…
My child, what do you search for?
the scent rising higher day by day!
our meadow is the best ashore,
but your heart is gone astray…
You say you’re fine by yourself,
guaranteed all that you want
you no longer seek help
your image, you flaunt…
My child, soft as silk,
smooth as a baby’s skin,
your meal still as milk,
causes you to raise your chin…
I say, you’re lost and you know it!
racing higher but you don’t fit
purpose: you forgot the meaning.
get back to the ways that are appealing.