Brews and beats,
Dogs, with owners, walking the streets,
As locals taste the treats.
From farmers,
Butchers and bakers,
Tunes float above the crepe eaters.

Safe and sound,
As the night spun around.
Safe and sound,
Tucked in bed, love all around.
Safe and sound,
Your little head in the cloud.
Safe and sound,
You can dream and scream aloud.
Safe and sound,
Turn around, cos the boogie man's only in your mind.
You're safe and sound.

A wander, canter, gallop or trot,
Your body becomes one with the horse.
As new movements pulse, pain is forgot;
Nature’s beauty relieves pain from the source.

Silence replaces the busyness of life,
The trees sound out their own tune.
Animals show us how to live,
And their movement illuminates how we can thrive.

What would Barbi wear,
If she went to Church?
Would it be white?
Would it be a modern mini
skirt, or would it be a pantsuit?
Could she be the new high priestess,
or would she be relegated to the sinners
confession box to cast all cares?
Or would she be Hillsong's worship
redeemer, belting out blessed
croons to lull our sins'
anxiety-inducing tunes?
It would be a shimmering
rainbow-sequenced number
flowing with loving kindness.
Maybe Barbi could save the Church,
elevating it to a new perch.

squeals of delight
float out across the horizon
from children in the houses
nearby.

then, cries of fight
follow after they tear open
treasures, discard disappointment
feebly.

many will gather day and night
full bellies will ensue,
then ambivalent skumber,
mixed tearily.

Must we endure guilt’s futility;
To take stock of our soul’s condition and
To release all unnecessary spoil, to
Be comforted by our Maker’s redeeming love?