My children have taught 
me to wake up with the sun,
to open my eyes 
when exhaustion from a night 
of screams threatens to
keep my soul closed to the day.
I rise resentful,
sad, apathetic, afraid.
But their eyes meet mine,
brown mirrors of potential:
joy at the closeness;
delight at whispered sharings;
acceptance of what is now;
trust in Earth's turning.
Their hearts, hands reach, pull me up
through the clouds of doubt
toward their dawning promise.