“Kids! They are all alike”

At the moment of birth,

Breath is the first concern.

Only when tiny lungs work,

Shall life's flame within them lurk,

A few precious minutes, the test of time,

To survive and thrive, a rhythm is sublime.

With worry in their heart, they sought to find,

An identity for their precious child, so kind.

A bracelet adorned with their family name,

Fastened upon the newborn, a symbol of fame.

Within days, a new name you place,

For a birth certificate.

Adults,

Masters of their fate,

Select the name,

That seals their state.

A child, however, must patiently wait,

For an identity bestowed by fate.

It takes time for a youngster to grasp,

The realities of the larger identity.

A sense of racial,

Ethnic,

National belonging,

comes slowly,

Absorbed by the years of celebrations and stories.

In youth's embrace, your little one perceived,

That all things hold a name, a truth conceived.

With the breadth of mind, words sprout and intertwine,

Expressing reality, a gift so divine.

The faith you profess,

Maybe not the same as your child,

Nor should it be!

You may shake your head and sight,

“Kids! They are all alike,”

Down in your human heart

A divine whisper comes,

“No, they are not!”

Like stars scattered across the night sky,

Each twinkling with its flair.

No two alike, they proudly declare,

For they are unique as to their creator!