Hand of a child

Life soils our skin,

but at day’s end,

wash thy hands and they will be cleansed.

From worldly events our minds become cluttered,

and when we arrive home,

wash thy hands and they will be cleansed.

When we dream dreams of discontent and awaken in distress,

wash thy hands and they will be cleansed.

When we are in doubt, then search within the silence of ourselves for the answers,

From this the truth shall be found.

Then so our soul is scrubbed with tallow soap and its wisdom will shine like a new penny in the hand of a child as his innocent eyes open wide in astonishment.

And all that you are and will ever be will be cleansed.