Life is simple, clear as dawn,
A gentle path we walk upon.
Yet restless hands weave tangled thread,
Complications born instead.

We build the maze, we guard the gate,
We turn to puzzles what was straight.
But truth remains, serene, unshaken—
Simplicity is ours, if taken.

We chase illusions, gilded dreams,
Forget the quiet, flowing streams.
In seeking more, we lose the way,
And cloud the light of each new day.

Yet still the heart, if taught to rest,
Finds peace in moments, small yet blessed.
The world is simple, pure, and kind—
It’s we who twist the gentle line.