The Rest of My Possible World
I dreamt of grace and wisdom.
My mother’s virtues, surpassed.
Yet now I face each troubled day.
And cannot find the heart.
Not refined, knowing, good.
I failed to reach the best I could.
I am not one who rose above
I’ve rarely touched the best I can.
Dreamers live for what should be
And toil to make it real.
True hybrid breeds improve growth
Spreading forests in moral soil.
I wasted time believing ours
Would thrive from our Great Love
I never braced my own two feet
To stand in my own earth
The concealed weeds, parasites
Have sundered spine from limbs
And mortified our spirits through
till life is sand in open hands
And health is our despair.
Would-be grace succumbs to pain
Lost memory hobbles wit
And virtue has no tread where vigor’s grip is lost
Hope for joy now passed to offspring’s eyes.
May they persist in strength, and wisdom reach;
and health and courage keep their road ahead.