She is the gentle one
Who sometimes wishes she were a cat.
I want to tell her everything I have learned,
And she patiently listens
While I boisterously share.
She already knows more than I do,
But she would never say so.
The generosity of my daughter
Reminds me to pay attention
To what I’m really doing
When I “parent”~
Am I guiding? Comforting? Deciphering?
Is motherhood more about vulnerability
Than it is about strength?
When she was younger, my mission was clear:
Prepare her for the world.
But now the world does not seem
So easily defined.
How do I prepare her to live
Firmly planted in her own heart,
While journeying near and far?
How do I help her create a map
That will guide her way?
Prayer brings me back to my own heart,
And the sensitive places that
Ask only for recognition.
I am willing to admit I know little.
Gratitude fills in the gaps.
