Of Chicken and Arrows

for Jennifer and Jack

Apollo

The deeper the bond the mightier the loss.
A mother surrenders her child to the world. 
Then, tossing and turning in bed, 
The mother's fears are unfurled.

This scene's a repetition, as old
As the dilemma of the chicken and the egg.
But for the mother and her child, a first
Step into the marvelous, untold. 

How come this little chick 
Became such Hen, or such Cock? 
They stride on their own now
But the mother's still in shock. 

With a void beneath her wing
By the shape of her chick deformed,
The mother swings in between pride
And doubt: did she do her lot?

If Gibran was right, parents are the bow
And their offspring living arrows.
The mystery lies in the Archer, 
To whose force we must bend.

The Bow is left to witness the flight,
The Arrow depends on its fletchings alone
While outside winds shape its aim 
And gravity exerts its pull.

As the mother looks to her side, 
The quiver is nonetheless empty. 
Therefore the quivering lips.
Therefore all this repeated show.

Two Duets - A Quartet

On Children

by Kahlil Gibran

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.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.