Thursday, March 6, 2008

A Daughter

A daughter

A work of art
Sculpted a bit each day
By oblivious hands
Molded
not with intention
Or outcome
But in each separate moment
By hands filled with
Love
Or pain;
Frustration,
Anger
Or gentle joy.
Each day, each moment
Adding
A nuance of shape

Each day, she told me
My own beloved mentor
You do the best you can
Not even God
Can ask more of you.

If the daily best
Begins with love,
Everything else
Will follow.