Naive Child Looking In

When a child is born

They sit upon a mountain high

With runs shaded by trees of green And honeysuckle air so sweet

They sit upon a mountain high In content, naive, ignorance

But they will trip and fall and tumble down

To only look up to their former safety

They stand knee high in swampy muck And gaze up to the sun

They never realized how close it was Until it was so far away

But hang in child, and climb A struggle is worth a prize.

A prize of returning back to that mountain top

Where the sun was close enough to kiss your cheeks

So climb! And when you get there The runs and trees and honey suckles will find new wonder S

o god bless the tumble to the bottom

That gave hope to the naive child