Starts with remembering
That you didn’t bring yourself
Into this world,
That you were thought of by another
Years before you had the capacity
To have any thoughts about your own existence.
You were spoken for,
And given a name to be known by
A people to belong to
An identity to reside in-
Gifts that can be embraced or despised
But that are inseparable from who you are.
To be a son
Is to know where home is.
It is to live in the consciousness
That no matter how
Advanced you become in age, in stature
That you will never outgrow
The need to have someone to call
But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him