the little child

the little child


once upon a time there was a little child that grew up in the wild.


the child had no father or mother and lived amongst the panthers in the branches of the trees.


the child loved to hang and swing amongst the leaves learned the language of the wind.


the rustle of the leaves in a summer night a sweet lullaby,


its trashing in a hurricane wind a ocean waves roar.


never alone and as happy as can be content and at peace.


one day a human came to the wild and took away the child.


the human taught the child to speak and dress and handle himself like the human rest.


how to build a house of cards and to measure success by how much you posses and who you conquest.


as time past the nest amongst the trees that rested inside the child's breast would not let the child rest.


the child grew weary and leary of even the human best


to hear once again the wind blow,to speak again the language of the wind, to regain the simple knowledge that was lost.


to retreat to the wild, to return and find the lost inner child that never left,
became the child's only and singular quest.


to relearn how to listen to our own soul.
the inner child that really knows best.


the child returned home climbed up a tree and listened once again to the heavenly messages that the wind send.


the moral of this story is....the next time you walk under a tree and the wind happens to blow


it is no accident but from g-d...


hence stop and listen to what the leaves are saying for they some how contain a secret message for you to mysteriously know.