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![]() Yes, my fretting, Frowning child, I could cross The room to you More easily. But I’ve already Learned to walk, So I make you Come to me. Let go now— There! You see? Oh, remember This simple lesson, Child, And when In later years You cry out With tight fists And tears— “Oh, help me, God—please.”— Just listen And you’ll hear A silent voice: I would, child, I would. But it’s you, Not I, Who needs to try Godhood. |
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![]() I caught a fleeting glimpse Out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look but it was gone I cannot put my finger on it now The child is grown, The dream is gone. I have become comfortably numb. |