A poem about: The poem is for my husband, Khattab. He goes by Baba for our son, Omar. This year is his first father's day. He is incredibly attentive to Omar. He loved to sing to him when he was small. Omar loves when Baba tickles him, takes him on the swing, and tosses him in the air. He works hard to give Omar and Mama the best life. He teaches him Islam. He is patient with Omar. Omar smiles when Baba walks into the room.

In the tender glow of dawn's embrace, Baba, your love leaves a gentle trace. For Omar's first Father's Day, a story we weave, Of moments cherished, hearts on sleeves. With lullabies sung on soft whispers of air, You cradled Omar with infinite care. In laughter's dance, in joy's sweet ring, You lift his spirit, and together you swing. Through games and giggles, with a loving flair, You toss him in freedom, high in the air. Hard-working hands that cradle and mend, To Omar and Mama, a never-ending friend. In the lessons of faith, in Islam's tender glow, Patiently teaching him all you know. Your presence a beacon, warm and bright, Omar's smile is your heart's guiding light. On this first Father's Day, let love resound, In the bonds of family, deeply profound. For Baba's love is a tender, precious art, Etched forever in your son's joyous heart.

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