Is a fool’s errand.
In our attempts to build a better world
For the next generation
Where our kids don’t struggle as we have
Or experience the same heartache,
We can sometimes find ourselves
Running about setting down concrete slabs
Along the forest floor,
Blocking access to thorny bushes,
Cancelling paths known to have snakes and scorpions,
Smoothing every rock
Putting railing by every river bank
While trying our best
To somehow also manage the weather.
Sure, the next generation ought not to struggle as we have
But we do not have the power to make the jungle
Into a promenade.
We can offer them boots though.