I watched a child play with
She allowed it to be lifted by an updraft
It was carried easily up, as in fair weather.
The girl smiled as she played at her craft.
How many times I have wished I could focus
As well as this child, so perfectly did.
The world would be left with nothing bogus,
Crime, misery, poverty, death, fear, illness, of all rid.
For I surely could concentrate on a freedom,
Willing with pleasured pointed mind to come.
Earth in her wondering for an end to a shivering,
Rising feather morning, easily, softly, quivering.