Where Children Play

Do we know all there is to know Constrained as we are by our senses? Some of scientific bent say it's so And cite any number of defenses. But things exist we cannot behold, Yet they are as real as break of day. They are here, there, and ages old— In the wind and where children play. It takes a full flagon of bluster To assume that one is all-knowing. It takes all the gall one can muster To think God's hand is fully showing. Yes, there exists another reality That cannot be seen nor measured. Science dismisses it in its totality But to believers it's faithfully treasured.