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.