DEBT

Talk not of gratitude

Nor think you owe me gold

A flower perhaps or a song

But the debt incurred is old.

Old as you and older

For, child, before your birth

When I felt the quicken in me

I portook of sky and earth!

Your birth was a storm that passed

You a plant that grew

I was rain and sun and soil

I was God and earth to you!

I was summer and winter and autumn

I knew fear and joy and peace

Forever I will be your debtor

Let talk of gratitude cease.

Go forth, my child, unfettered

I am your mother but now also your friend

Wishing you well forever

But owing you till the end!