Your children are not your children, this you should know.
Sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself, they
Come through you but not from you. Although they’re with you
They belong not to you. And for all that you do,
You may give them your love, but your thoughts, keep away
For their thoughts are their own as they wholesomely grow.
You may house their young bodies but never their souls.
For theirs dwell in the house of tomorrow which can’t
Be visited by you, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, as their brightness beams.
But do not make them like you nor try to implant
Your beliefs into them. It’s the worst of all goals.
Life goes forward – not backward, and it tarries not
With the things that were yesterday’s. You are the bows
From which your children as living arrows are shot.
The Archer sees the path and will nurture its plot.
With the bow’s might, swift and far will go the arrows.
Through nature’s evolution the wise soul is taught.
Let you bending in the Archer’s hand be gladness
For the ongoing process of love’s expression.
Even as the Archer loves the arrow that flies
He loves also the bow who can well recognize
How to keep itself stable. Your work will be done
In complete loving guidance and pure truthfulness.