Your Children Are Not Your Children｜Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children — A thought simple enough to understand, yet difficult enough to live. Gibran’s words do not offer an easy answer. Instead, they leave us with a question:

What does it mean to love someone without trying to possess their future?

For the story behind the original reading and how this poem has accompanied me across the years, you can find it in the description of my earlier recording of the poem.

Transcript

Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself. They come through you. Open up from you and dull. They are with you. Yet. They belong not to you. You may give them your love. Follow your thoughts. Or they have their own source. You may house their bodies, But not their souls. For their souls. Dwell in the house of tomorrow. Which you cannot visit. Not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them. Of sea. Not make them like you. For life goes not backward. Notaris was yesterday. You are the bows from which. Your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer. System barge. Upon the path of the infinite. And he bends you. With his mind that his arrows may go swift and far. That you're bending in the archer's hand before gladness. For even as he loves the arrow that flies. So he loves also the bone. That is stable. Your children. I'm not your children They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself. They come through you they are not from you and though they are with you They belong not to you. You may give them your love Not your thoughts Or they have their own thoughts You may house their bodies Not their soul Let them be, Let them grow Let the river find its flow Love them gently, Hold them near Leave a little room for them to disappear Let them be, Let them grow There are places you don't know And when the time comes when they go, Open your hands Let them fly For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow which you cannot visit Not even in your dreams You may strive to be like them But seek not to make them like you Life goes not backward, Nor tarries with yesterday They are the living arrows and you are the bows And the archer sees the mark upon the path Cannot see let them be let them grow Let the river find its flow You can guide them, You can stay But you cannot choose their way Let them be, Let them grow There are skies you do not know And when the time comes when they go Open your hands Let them fly You are the bows from which your children As living arrows are sent forth at your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness Let your bending be for gladness your children. Are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself. Let them be. Let them grow Give them your love Not your thoughts. Don't be Let them grow Open your hands Let them go, Let them fly You are the bow, They are the arrow Let them fly you Fly into the light Into the light, Into the light