Chaos thrives within these walls, no quiet moments here.
Patience is a state of mind, there are children growing here.
From that first tiny flutter, of life inside of life…
A spark of the divine slowly growing toward the light
A tiny helpless cry becomes a word, and then a song.
A smile, a hop, a skip, a jump, they don’t stay little long.
The work is hard and thankless for a strong and guiding hand.
They need a gentle kindred heart to help them understand.
A thoughtless word can break a heart, too strong a hand, the spirit.
Too gentle and the yield is spoiled and all tomorrows with it.
The apple cannot fall too far from the Apple Tree.
A careless hand can pluck the fruit while it is still too green.
Kiss the hurts, mend the bikes, hand-me-down the jeans,
Hold the moments out of time and…
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WILDsound Festival 