A MOTHER AND A FATHER AND A LIFE

A mother
and a father. . .

a privilege
to know both. . .

so lucky those
who also
knowledge and acquaintance
with their grandparents
can boast,

for these forbears–
the colors of their eyes,
the feelings of their stares–
impart so much of what we dare
call ours. . .

and of their parentage
and parenting
we reap, we ARE
the fruit of the next crop
and, if we’re very lucky,
what they give,
we will give forward, too,
so that the life lived in and through their lives
will not
with the beat
their
(or our)
hearts
stop. . .

for
from loves and labors
which we
to the world
have brought
may issue forth
+++++in ways we cannot always see,
+++++ predict,
+++++ and in no way we can ever force,
another
and another
crop.

So does life go on–
just as
butterflies and bees
from flower to flower
do use their wings and legs
and mingling power
to help spread
life of every kind
quite far and wide
with every buzz and flit and fly and hop.

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This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems) and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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