O ‘Children, my Children - come closer
And I will tell you of the stars;
The Stars that fall to earth in glittering array,
And contain the fragments of our future’s hope,
Each one is so precious and so fragile,
The vital force that entices the shoot to bloom
Carries its own burden of stories past;
Each generation fights against the tide.
Listen to me; it is the inherited fears that conspire against the beauty of new life;
And wounds open against every thrust it seems.
So, we must struggle to heal these dark set wounds;
Relinquish and grow aright.
I tell you, I will not add to your burden from my vessel,
Receive no new amount from me to bend and twist your growth.
Together we will staunch the blood that flows,
And grow together strong and new
Vicky Hemingway 2001