Discovering Laconte

The innocence of a child, will grant sixth sense, The way they peer through ones soul, appreciative of chance. As close to Him as one can get unless entombed, is to be the Indigo one, eavesdropping from the womb. Fingertips suspended in animation, Find The images of all surroundings like the newly blind. Recognition of voices, knowing who you are Sit and wait, lay dormant till, it is time for them to part. Roads will be taken, paved or rough, their choice, It's all part of the cycle for them to find their voice. For Indigo's, along with Crystal children, know That the gift of life is precious, baby steps, their own. With each footstep taken, an imprint leaves its mark, When life cycle repeats itself, the world they were apart.