Little one, truth be told
The hardest thing when you were born
Was to find that name you’d carry forth
As your own.
There’s nothing a bawling newborn lets you in on,
Neither persistent character, nor ambitions to come.
And so it falls upon newborn parents
Almost as clueless as you,
To make a decision of great finesse & finality
That you may own.
A name can have so much,
A bit too much if you ask me.
What’s to say you will be or not —
Brave, radiant, divine or extraordinary.
Why must you have a name
That foretells,
Who you will choose to become.
This name, it’s yours.
This future, it’s yours.
What a funny thing then,
For us to think of a name
For you.
And so we set out to find,
A name, that doesn’t define,
Neither the skip in your step
Nor the hop in your jump.
Of all the beautiful things in the world known,
We found one that’s truest of them all,
The voice inside of you — already your own.
And that’s why we named you, Zameer.
—Love, Ma. For Z on his 4th birthday.
