The expansion and contraction
Of my parents’ chest
Is holier to me than
many pilgrimages to Mecca.

To see them smile, laugh, cry and frown
Is to see the universe do the same.

The ancients say we select our parents
even before we are born.

Though we carry their name and linage
We are not their true children but the children of the wind, bestowed upon them for safe keeping only.

Cherish your parents, no matter what they did or did not do
For they are the vessel that carried you to who you are not

And in so doing have played their part,
the rest my friend, is now up to you