. In Honor of Birthing Person's Day In gratitude and thanks I bless the one Who gave me life, who sacrificed each breath; Whose love unbounded warmed me till their death. I praise my dear, beloved birthing person. I bless the day that I became their son. For nine months I was nurtured in their womb; They later grumbled at my messy room. How I prize memories of my birthing person! To them my moral growth was never done. They held and nourished me at their warm breast; They helped me study and to pass each test. I daily miss my sainted birthing person. Although sports came from my impregnating person, Their partner was who taught me how to write, And often sang me lullabies at night; They held me close and tight---my birthing person. We can't say “dad” or “mom”---the woke will shun And shame us, forcing our disbandment. But still, let's always follow the Commandment To ever honor thy Impregnating Person And always honor too thy Birthing Person. . . Brian Yapko is a lawyer who also writes poetry. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.