I guess the grass itself is a child,

(lumbarsacrococcyxbabies)

"Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.

I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you,
And you must not be abased to the other.

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not
even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice."

-Walt Whitman, from Song of Myself

Is it a dream?
Nay but the lack of it the dream,
And failing it life`s lore and wealth a dream,
And all the world a dream.