Babies In The Nest
We are babies in a nest called earth;
sent down from heaven above;
a garden was the womb of our birth;
all lives were created by love.
Earth was destined for the prodigal child;
with no allowance for conflict above;
perfection; no place for thoughts run wild;
it only had room for truth and love.
The lower kingdom was a great hologram;
an illusion created by coherent light;
a mystical illusion from the great I Am;
life’s dawn came from darkest night.
Tho we believe we’re a physical being;
by the Master; all must be fed;
we are the babies of God’s love; unseen;
and, as love, we’ll never be dead.
Angels stand watch over our every move;
tho we don’t know they are there;
even when the Master may disapprove;
his love remains, everywhere.
Babies don’t know what the future may hold;
in the nest; we simply cry for more;
the winds and the rain make these babies bold;
tho they know not; what’s in store.
Someday all babies shall test their wings;
the children of God will never die;
experience is the creator of the kings;
all must leave their nest; to fly.
Monty 12/30/23. # 1,897