A Poem for Mothering

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In your eyes, oh my child, I see Heaven
Waging war with the earth for your will,
Sense beneath each defiance and triumph
Ancient battles of skill against skill.

And I, as your mother, stand praying,
While watching your endless delight,
That God will be King of your choosing,
And you will hate wrong and love right.

Oh my son, if you hear my instruction,
May you turn your smooth feet to walk wise.
Then the Lord, your Good King, would reclaim them:
The desires bound up in your eyes.

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