"Life" longs for children.
They came through you, but not from you,
Although they are with you, they don't belong to you.
You can give them love, but don't give them thoughts.
Because they have their own ideas.
You can cover their bodies, but you can't cover their souls.
Because their souls live in tomorrow's house, which you can't even dream of.
You can try to imitate them, but you can't make them like you.
Because life will not go backwards, nor will it stay yesterday.
You are bows, and your children are arrows of life on strings.
The shooter aims at the target at infinity, which fills you with divine power and makes his arrow shoot fast and far.
Let your "bending" in the hands of a shooter become joy;
Because he likes flying arrows and stationary bows.