Innocent are they who cause no harm,
Nor seek to bind with artifice or charm,
But loving all of life in pure delight,
Play free in day and sleep in peace at night.
Magic is the breeze of summer air;
that ocean, field, and summit all caress,
that bears the hawk and eagle high in flight
while butterfly and flower are gently kissed.
Grace to all that live and wander free,
Trusting the heart to take them where it will,
they leave their bodies open to the light
to drink of love until their hearts are filled,
then pass like beauty flowing in the wind.
More than mortal thought can bind in lines,
the light that makes them sighted that are blind,
sacred the life in songs that poets sing,
in words that light our tongues with spirit fire.
I knowing this though fearful will attend,
to bless will blessing gain to bless again
to give and want no more than this dark hill
a heart to love, a quiet place to dwell.