I live in a garden filled with love,

Birds abound, fruit aplenty on branches above.

Cultivated and tended, looked after and nourished,

Till every last petal bloomed and flourished.

Watered by a love brighter than the sun,

By my mother and father; how lucky am I to be their son.

On the rocky road of life you guided me aright,

Lessening my load and making it light.

When I was afraid you calmed my fears,

Held my hand, wiped away my tears,

Sacrificed your time, gave up your pleasure,

Oh! The memories of my parents I’ll ever and always treasure.

How wretched am I for the ingratitude that I show,

It’s impossible for me to pay back this huge debt that I owe.

My parents, the means of my coming alive,

For my comfort how they toil and work, sweat and strive.

To them I owe my life-sustaining heart-beat,

Dear Mother, the entrance to Paradise lies at your feet;

Yet how much do I hurt and cause you pain,

My disobedience brings me never-ending shame.

I write these lines to beg your pardon,

To thank you for your love which blossomed like a garden.

My father, I now realise you are my dearest friend,

Please forgive me with these unworthy words which I send;

The agony I brought to you please overlook,

Don’t take me to task for the road of wrong that I took.

My wish and my desire is for you both to remember me in your supplication,

And that you are granted a high status and lofty elevation.

May you have a life – long and blessed,

And may you be saved from being hurt and being distressed.

Please accept this: my feeble and broken gratitude,

A deficient recompense for my ungrateful attitude.

Advertisements