“Grandmother, I kneel before you
To learn the hard lesson of self-control,
To cage the impulse that would leap forward unchecked,
To contain my passions, to leash my feelings
And prevent the from action, yet not cease
To experience them, though they must needs be shackled.
Teach me to value that which can never be expressed
Lest others be harmed, and love it anyway.
Grandmother who is at home with longing,
Bless these hungers of mine
And keep others safe from their ravening jaws.
“Grandmother, I kneel before you
To learn the hard lesson of the window glass,
The barrier I press myself against to see all the others
Living with joy, with romance, with fun and games
That I cannot join in; to see all the children laughing
And playing in a circle that is not for me.
Teach me that there is a still hope in a life
Where any moment of happiness
Must be earned with aching toil,
Teach me that these gems of joy will be valued
All the more for their rarity,
O Grandmother who trudges on, mile after mile
And never lets such a thing as the weight of sorrow
Stop her footsteps in the graying rain.”
