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Here you are, between two generations, Assigned to one above and one below; Perhaps beset by urgent obligations; Perhaps more blessed than you right now might know. Yet now is where you are, between the two, Mother of both, though daughter still of one. Of those you serve, of course, the last is you, Though serve you must until your duty's done. How beautiful! Though beauty wears a veil, Enduring incognito through each day. Resplendent though unpolished, the dull grail, 'Ere one discovers it, is tucked away. Sing, then, of sacrifice, and long-term love, Desire suspended, and life pursued in place. As this time empties out, its cup will prove Years from now to have been full of grace. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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