And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,
Speak to us
of Children.
And he said:
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.
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 the bow that is
stable.
Kahlil
Gibran
1883-1931
'The Prophet'
