Saint Infantilism Poem by Liza Sud

It shows young girls who are playing
in their light trails in the air,
squirrels listen to the Syrinx,
The birds stun in flight and stare.

Only peace is all around,
Even cozy isolating,
Just the comfort without doubt
Without struggle for attaining.

Ah, infantilism is native!
The bright age without betrayal,
When you fall in love so saintly
With yourself, as part of every

Thing in Universe, and all the
Happy girls you are reflecting.
Realize the union, hold it!
As you were once a saint painting!