The Present is a Present
My Baba’s parents
Look upon me from a restored photograph
From a time and place
So different from my own.
Yet I see myself (and so many of my family members)In their eyes, faces, and hands.
I somehow know these people–and love them:
These hardworking and noble ancestors
Who rose to the challenge of life,
Never gave up, and pushed
On and onward
Conquering despair–and all the “slings and arrows”of “outrageous fortune”
To remind me of my own place, time
To keep carrying on and onwardIn spite of uncertainty, fear, and sorrow
With a hopeful heart
And deep, abiding faith
In purpose, truth, and love.