With a Bit of Blood And a Limp In Our Step

You want to grow up fast

And be like Mommy

And go on adventures with Daddy

And be a grown-up.

But don’t hurry little girl.

Don’t you rush.

Time’s a thief and soon we’ll be

On the very edge of eternity.

Babies come and then they grow

Into men and women.

They will take the world we’ve made

And inherit what we’ve left them.

They will be the heroes, soldiers, prisoners, losers, winners

We once were.

Treading the same dust.

Cursing the same sunrise.

Blessing the same ocean.

Hoping and longing for the very same things we did.

To them the world is new, not old.

They don’t know that we’ve lived before them.

Fought the same battles, earned the same hard-wrought wisdom

With a bit of blood and a limp in our step to show for it.

They start all over again,

Rarely learning from our mistakes,

Making them all over again.

Oh God, how to stop this cycle.

This birth and life and death.

How to make it into something more?

How to connect with every one who’s come before us,

And will come after?

How to give our children

Something greater, dearer, more eternal

Than the dust at our feet,

And a sun that never stops rising

And a few broken dreams?

How to hold their hands and know

They will rise to a world better than the one we knew?

Is eternity the only hope we have?

Or will the hope of eternity

Seep into the dust of our every day life

And make each moment something more?

So by the hope of heaven,

We can hold the hands of our children and know

We offer them something better, so much better

Than the world we knew.


Originally published at virtuallymarisa.com on April 5, 2017.