To this one grief do not succumb at last—
unlike so many losses, all that tearing,
all the deaths of things that must be passed,
the vital griefs from which you learn by bearing.
Yes, when your child gets on that bus you weep,
trailing pages of your loose-leaf heart,
the rough handwritten story you can’t keep.
How small the steps with which your light departs!
But you grieve not for her–she will return–
but for that soul for whom all things are new,
that child who still can wonder, risk and learn,
the part that you don’t want to lose of you.
So do not let that grief, that death be true:
no, let the new adventurer be you.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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