Look, honey,
I am trying hard to trust you,
To show and tell you that you are

And that you need to find your own 
Your own path, your own way, your own heart
But I am worried–
Saying something is a sin,
Is kissing cousins to hate
And what happened to the light I used to see
In your soul?
Now you seem scared
And I hear words from your mouth
But your voice is foreign
And I’m worried. 
I’m worried. 
You’re still a girl,
To me,
So untried and untested
And I’m worried. 
But I have to let you figure it out. 
You’re grown. 
I have to trust. 
You’re grown. 

But love always comes 
With worry.