The wildest thing that children see today….
Are tiny weeds that grow in payments cracked
Mere tom cats overgrown that bite in play.
No quivering thorn to show us what we lack
Where is the wild acacia, where the thorns?
And where the gypsy people and their tents
Where is the open space where Christs ars born?
Where the hand of God, the sacraments?
We fear and yet we love all nature wild
Although we have destroyed it to make roads
The gods of vegetation are defiled
Yet children pick the weeds that grow abroad.
What is our dark desire that we have lost?
No one knows and children pay the cost?
Life begins in wilderness and joy
And from the nest the little birds will fly
How my heart sings 