Children
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 can not 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
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 you bending in the archer’s
hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow
that files,
So He loves also the bow that
is stable.
(Khalil Gibran)
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