Wednesday, April 20, 2016

They Will Be Like You













They imitate the way you sneeze and tie your shoes and
cut your food, so please, if for no other reason, eat your
peas and brussels sprouts; and when you hold your head
high, when you scan the sky to find your polestar, they look
up there too, not knowing why, not yet. Your steady
temper teaches them serenity; it readies them to make
their way above the petty and the mean and not get
muddled over seeming versus substance, which is why they
trust that everything is as it needs to be in the reality of
here and now. And so you chart your course on higher
ground, not only for their sake, not just to see the sun
come up and gild the valley till it can’t contain the light; it’s
where the road to paradise begins.

The prophet says: You are beyond forgiven. In the morning
comes the splendid grace that lifts you up, scrapes off the
blemishes, and takes away the sting. And isn’t that (you ask
rhetorically) the Gospel, and the promise kept?—All things

are possible; all souls have wings.
***


This poem is available as a limited-edition print for Mothers' Day.Learn more at/www.zgravweb.net/mothersday.html


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