Eventually, You Have To Let Them Go
We try to build them up, to make them strong,
give gifts of tiny truths, a whispered song
against the dark, a phrase not to forget;
it�s not so much to guard them with and yet
it�s all we have. The sweat and tears and years
we�ve poured with open hands must morph to fears
we could not give enough. The world will breach
each barrier we erect; all we can teach
is not enough. All work of human hands
is flawed and broken from the start; the sands
will grind away, bring lovers cold, with hearts
unmoved, untouched. My book, my child, bear parts
of me and though I know their paths unwind
beyond my hands, I ask the world, be kind.