Dear Marc,

I may not have been there when you were born,
Nor have I seen how much you’ve grown.
But stories of you have their way of reaching me–
There are ways of knowing about you, you see.

They say you like to run around,
And you never seem to ever get tired.
They say you are quite a restless lad,
And you’re not a good sight when you’re sad,
Or you’re simply sulking and moping around.

I am sure though that your face lights up,
When your mame and dade wrap you in their arms.
I am sure as well that before you sleep at night,
A gentle kiss from them, on your cheeks alight.

I have known your likes and dislikes–

I could tell you’ll clap with glee,
Upon the sight of Jollibee,
Or jump, and dance earnestly,
Upon a string of notes from Barney.

These are the few things I’ve known so far–

I cannot tell if you can read or count,
Whether you can add or subtract;
Or if in school you’ve earned a star.
But your mom teaches you well no doubt–
Teaches you things beyond your ABC’s
things that matter in real life, you’ll see.

So on this 23rd of May,
I recall your special day.
Forgive this little silly rhyme I’ve made.
The wishes and prayers in my heart–
that could have been better if said.

You may not know at this time if I ever do exist,
I may not be able to tell if you’ve grown an inch–
Or if you weigh more or less.
Just make sure each day that you awake
that you are so much blessed,
You are blessed.

Love,
Ninang Ryce