I was reminded today by Lene, http://www.theseatedview.blogspot.com/, that today was the Feast of St Brigid or Imbolc, the Fifth Annual Blogger (Silent) Poetry Reading. She has a wonderful poem on her site as does Strickerin. There are links to both here on my blog. Not very long ago while Joseph was still in the Army a friend of mine sent this poem by Khalil Gibran to me. It became a favorite of mine probably because I have four kids and five grandkids.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.