The Best and Most Beautiful Irony

It is the most beautiful irony—
Of comedy and tragedy—
That this house, which nurses you
This home, which wraps and binds you, to protect you
These hearts which love and hold you so 
Will bid you go
Will send you, in fact
With hopes you find your own self and way, in the bright, good world

Will let you go 
Knowing you are brighter still,
And the world needs the marvel that you are
If it will rise at all from its long slumber 

You will go,
An individual, and no one else's, 
Just your own, to make your way
With fire in your bones, the world to know
Yet connected, yes and always,
To these roots which held you and bid you grow
Which sent you, as the day sends morning light and follows night 
As the sun rises
As the moon sends sea tides

And as the dandelion sends its seeds
And lets them go without knowing where they will land or grow
Or what their life will be
And so grieves
And also,
Feels the joy of all things, 
Rising through the dirt
The joy of earth
In every longing tree and leaf