Elizabeth Jennings

Elizabeth Jennings I do not understand this child Though we have lived together now In the same house for years. I know Nothing of him, so try to build Up a relationship from how He was when small. Yet have I killed The seed I spent or sown it where The land is his and none of mine? We speak like strangers, there’s no sign Of understanding in the air. This child is built to my design Yet what he loves I cannot share. Silence surrounds us. I would have Him prodigal, returning to His father’s house, the home he knew, Rather than see him make and move His world. I would forgive him too, Shaping from sorrow a new love. Father and son, we both must live On the same globe and the same land, He speaks: I cannot understand Myself, why anger grows from grief. We each put out an empty hand, Longing for something to forgive.