Children—
each of you, listen.
I love you all.
All three of you,
who have aroused in me
a unique
and independent love—
three different loves
all rooted in the womb
of blood and warmth.
How many days
have we buried
in the soil of years?
Can you see
how much good has grown
even when the weeds
were going wild?
Remember how sure
you were
that everything wrong
was mine to make right?
Remember how much
each of you hated me
at times
for failing
to accept your burdens?
How proud I am
that you carried them
so far away
with a strength and will
you didn’t know you had—
proving to yourselves
and to each other
that we could
spread our fruits
on the table
and agreed to share
the cutting board
and the knife.
DeMaris
5-10-15
