Little giggles brighten the air like sparkles of sunlight shining on my ear.
Inside a castle made of air, bodies are hurtled with abandon here.
I stare as I drive by at the happy children playing in the yard.
Do they know how little is between them, and the uncaring ground, to be their guard?
How like small children we all are to live on our assumptions,
Blithely pressing on to implement the full force of our presumption.
The ideas that we cherish, do they serve us or do they serve Him?
Do they rest on true security or on a fickle, selfish whim?
Is it just a personal fantasy, this castle of character we build?
In contention with others, what class of concepts do we wield?
With futile opposition we seek to defend our fairy tale,
thinking that we're secure, surrounded by our castle made of air.......
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