To Mom and Dad:
I saw the red dust of Kenya
and missed crumbling the rich black earth through my fingers.
I waded in the rice paddies of Japan
and imagined golden fields waving against a cloudless summer sky.
I hiked a rugged canyon in South Africa
and remembered those gently rolling hills disappearing over the horizon.
I spoke with an old man in Viet Nam
and saw Grandma's arthritic fingers gracefully weilding a needle and thread.
I met a little girl who would spend her life begging the streets of India
and thanked the Lord for parents who could give me the world.
Thank you Mom and Dad for these two greatest gifts:
Roots of Love and Glorious Wings.
No matter which way I've traveled or how far I've flown,
Your roots of love will guide my wings home.
