Mother and Father, Bookends of Me

The branch bends away, always away.

My father is a stilt walker
and his father was a farmer.
My father uses reason as a weapon
and his father used corporal punishment.
My father works in the theater of the heart
and his father's hands were calloused most of his life.

My mother is a healer
and her mother used pills.
My mother meditates
and her mother slept.
My mother knows there is something bigger
and her mother never wondered.

It is stunning where we come from
and what we do with that.

The branch bends away, always away.