My Mother

My mother is a gentle song,

Soft and steady, sweet yet strong.

Her voice is calm, her eyes are deep,

A love eternal, wide, and steep.

She is the dawn that wakes my day,

The guiding star that lights my way.

Her hands may tire, her steps grow slow,

Yet in her care, warm rivers flow.

When storms of life begin to roar,

She stands a shield, a steadfast shore.

Her prayers unseen, her tears unknown,

She carries burdens not her own.

Her laughter rings like summer skies,

Her silence holds a thousand sighs.

The wrinkles forming on her face,

Are marks of love, of time, of grace.

She is the food upon my plate,

The reason I am not too late.

The lessons whispered in my ear,

Still guide me now, still keep me near.

Though I may wander far and wide,

Her blessings walk right by my side.

No temple grand, no gold, no art,

Could match the shrine inside her heart.

And if the world forgets my name,

Her love will still remain the same.

No wealth, no crown, no earthly other,

Can take the place I call—My Mother.