Blood binds wounds and opens hurts..
Relatives are a blessing or a living curse.
Parenting, no break from: raise and tend,
Trial and error, we don’t know which or when.
As mothers we go on nurturing.
Children yearn, and learn discerning.
Fathers are baffled by it all.
It’s a dance, a stumble, a magical ball.
Not measuring wonder at: this or that,
Amazement, kisses, and caveats.
Time marches onward until it’s all gone.
Love softens our pain and helps us belong.