Glory be to G-d for losing a child
to adulthood, for feeling & being
impotent in the face of their new wide
open world. Glory be to G-d’s unmoved
moving, satellites pulled by gravity
into new orbits. Old centers remain,
watching. All emptier galaxies.
Glory be to G-d for the unseen path
in the shifting terrain, for each footstep
shared with travelers equally young / old
enough to know that they’re out of their depth,
that they’re meant to be. Glory be to G-d.
I once prayed for exactly this. Now, when
we need you most, G-d, be with us. Amen.

_{Inspired by this poem. For parents of college freshmen.}