poem four: parents and children (a found poem)

Yesterday was a hectic day, because my sons (I have three) and I had a day out with my dad, stepmom, and younger brother and sister (who we never see, because they live in the USA). So my poem is late. And it is a found poem* about parents … being one, but to some extent, having them as well.

It’s a found poem as it’s a bit less work to only have to deal with line breaks and word patterns (rather than new words) when you’re a day late! I’ll write new words for today in a bit.

*(From page 88 of Buddhism for Mothers by Sarah Napthali)

The Buddha’s father
learned the hard way
That despite his wealth

and position as king
he could not protect his son,
Siddhartha, from the world.

Although he tried to create
the perfect childhood
where his son would want

for nothing, his son insisted
on his freedom to see the world
as it was. Like Siddhartha

and every human
ever to exist,
our children must suffer.

The more we resist this
and insist against it,
the more it will hurt us.

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