On 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 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.

– Kahlil Gibran

Because I Could Not Stop For Death

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

   – Emily Dickinson

How Love Met Madness

A long time ago, before the world was created and humans set foot on it for the first time, virtues and vices wandered bored, not knowing what to do.

One day, they were all gathered and bored more than even when Ingenious had an idea: “Why don’t we play hide and seek? “

All of them liked the idea, and immediately the mad Madness shouted, “ I want to count! I want to count!” Since no one else was crazy enough to seek for Madness, she leaned on a tree and started to count, “1, 2, 3…”

As Madness counted, the vices and virtues went hiding. Tenderness hung on the horn of the moon; Treason under a pile of garbage; Fondness curled up between the clouds; Lie said he would hide under a stone but he lied and hid at the bottom of the lake; Passion went to the center of the earth; Avarice entered a sack that he ended up breaking.

Madness continued to count, “79,80, 81,82…” All the vices and virtues were already hidden by then, except for Love, whom as undecided as he is, did not know where to hide. And this should not surprise us because we all know how difficult it is to hide Love. Madness was already at “95, 96,97…” and just at the moment when she arrived at hundred, Love jumped into a rosebush and there he hid out.

Madness shouted “I’m coming! I’m coming!” and as she turned, the first one she saw was Laziness, thrown to her feet because she didn’t have any energy to hide. Then she saw Tenderness in the horn of the Moon, and Lie at the bottom of the lake, and Passion in the center of the earth. She discovered them one by one, finding all of them but one. Madness was getting desperate, unable to find the last missing one, until Envy, envious at love for not being discovered, whispered to Madness: “You are lacking Love, and he is hiding in the rosebush.”

Madness took a wooden pitchfork, and stabbed at the rosebush, and stabbed and stabbed, till a heartbreaking shout made her stop. Slowly, Love came out covering his face with his hands, and from between his fingers ran two threads of blood, out of his eyes.

Madness anxious to find Love had taken out Love’s eyes with the pitchfork!

“Oh, what have I done? What have I done?!” she shouted. “Love, I have left you blind! How can I repair the damage?”

Love answered, “You cannot restore my eyes. But if you want to do something for me, you could be my guide.”

So from that day on, Love is blind and is always accompanied by Madness.

– Author Anonymous